From the Case Files of Edward Nigma, PI
by Pierre Gringoire
Summary: A selection of cases from the files of Edward Nigma, former supervillain turned private investigator. In the course of these cases, Edward learns more than he expected about Gotham, the people who inhabit it and himself...
1. The Unlikely Partnership

**_Author's Notes_**

 ** _I'm back...Welcome back loyal readers and people checking out this series for the first time. Now that the core characters are all here, it's back to the adventures of Edward Nigma, PI. This story is going to be a bit of a change from the previous ones. It will be told as a series of casefiles that Edward has over the course of about a year or so story time. So it will be a bit episodic in nature, but still tell a full story, if that makes sense. As always, feel free to let me know what you think. Enjoy!_**

 _Case File 0193: The Unlikely Partnership_

 _September 24th, 2006._

 _A missing persons case I was investigating happened to coincide with a murder investigation being conducted by the GCPD. What followed was something that no one could have anticipated, yet looking back, I wouldn't change a thing._

 _-E. Nigma, Private Investigator_

Early on a fall morning, half the GCPD were dispatched to an address in the Forest Hills neighborhood on the outskirts of Gotham City. Half a dozen police cars were parked outside a sprawling ranch house as the neighborhood's well to do residents watched from their windows. Commissioner Gordon shut the door of the police cruiser behind him as he walked up the driveway toward the house. He suppressed a sigh. Visiting a murder scene was never a pleasant prospect, but when the victim was William Barnes, one of the wealthiest and most politically connected men in the whole city...Gordon would have his hands full keeping the media and certain other parties from getting involved. Especially since Batman was out of Gotham and would be unable to lend assistance. Gordon shook his head. GCPD could handle this.

He walked through the open door and into the foyer of the home. A uniformed officer on the scene respectfully acknowledged him. "Commissioner."

Gordon nodded at him. "Is Detective Bullock here?"

The officer nodded. "He's in the kitchen with the body sir. The medical examiner just got here too."

"Alright." Gordon gestured back towards the front door. "Make sure the neighbors don't enter the crime scene. Let me know if the media shows up. Last thing we need is a circus."

The officer nodded and walked back towards the front door to stand guard. Gordon entered the kitchen and was met with a gruesome sight. The body of William Barnes was lying sprawled on the kitchen floor in a large pool of blood. A large kitchen knife was still stuck in his chest and his eyes were still wide open, staring unseeing straight up at him. A trail of bloody footprints led out of the kitchen towards the back of the house and, Gordon presumed, the back exit. Gordon was long used to seeing scenes like this in Gotham. Too used to it. The medical examiner was kneeling down by the body, completing his initial examination. Bullock stood off to the side, leaning against the kitchen counter. Bullock looked at Gordon. "Mornin' Jim."

"What have we got Harv?"

Bullock wiped his nose with his sleeve and pulled out his notebook. "Guess I don't have to tell you who the stiff is. Housekeeper found him like this when she came in at 7:00 this mornin'. Her screamin' woke up half the neighborhood."

"How did she get in?"

"She's got her own key, but she said the door was unlocked when she got here. No sign of any struggle anywhere else in the house. Nothing missin' either."

So this wasn't a random break-in. Good to know. Gordon crouched down to get a better look at the body, being careful not to step in the blood. He was no medical expert, but the gashes on Barnes' hands and forearms told him that he'd fought hard at the end. Poor bastard. "How long's he been dead?"

"From the body, I'd say he died around midnight," the middle aged examiner said. "I won't know the full extent of the damage done until I get him back to the GCPD morgue, but a preliminary examination shows that he was stabbed about a dozen times, all in the chest."

Gordon was taken aback. A dozen? He'd met Barnes a few times at fundraisers and events he'd put on for Mayor Hill. He'd been an over-bearing, self-important man in life, but to have been attacked in such a violent manner...

"Sounds like overkill to me," Bullock said beside him, putting voice to his thoughts. "Who'd want him dead that much?"

"Most of the initial wounds were fairly superficial," the medical examiner explained, getting up off the floor. "I think we should get the body out so I can do a more thorough examination."

Gordon was about to call in the examiner's assistant to help move the body when a loud voice from near the front door reached their ears: "Don't move! Hands where I can see them!"

Gordon immediately pulled out his side arm. He turned to see Bullock had done the same. He gestured for the detective to follow him back towards the entrance of the house. As Gordon and Bullock made their way down the hallway, another, painfully familiar voice reached Gordon's ears. "Really officer, it's too early for this. I usually like to have my morning coffee before I'm about to be the victim of police brutality."

Behind him, Bullock swore. Gordon sighed and looked up heavenwards for a brief moment. Not him. Not here.

At the ornate front door, the uniformed officer Gordon had spoken to earlier was standing with his piece pulled on a green clad figure standing with their arms folded in the door way. Sure enough, there was Edward Nigma staring at the obviously frightened officer with a look that was half amusement and half contempt. He looked past the officer to meet Gordon's gaze. "Good morning Commissioner," he addressed him in that smooth, condescending way of his. When he saw Bullock, his eyes narrowed slightly, but he tipped his hat and smirked. "Detective Bullock. Is there a special reason I'm being held at gunpoint, or is that your standard procedure when you see me nowadays?"

Gordon put his gun back in his holster. "At ease," he told the officer. His day would be chaotic enough without Nigma going to complain about any mistreatment he received to the press. The officer slowly lowered his gun and backed away, letting Gordon step forward to deal with the former rogue. Once the gun was off of him, Nigma relaxed slightly and placed his hands on the top of his cane.

"That's better. Now, what brings the whole of GCPD out to this address on this lovely morning?"

Gordon narrowed his eyes. Was Nigma playing some kind of game with them, or did he legitimately not know? And if he didn't know, what was he doing out here? "That's a matter of official police business Nigma," he answered. "What are you doing here?"

Nigma chuckled. "That's a matter of official private investigator business Commissioner."

Gordon fought the urge to grind his teeth. "Not the time for your games Nigma. What are you doing out here?"

"Spoilsport. As it happens, I have business with Mr. Barnes..." Nigma's voice trailed off as he caught sight of the medical examiner coming out from behind Bullock. "...What's going on here?"

"What do you think 'genius'?" Bullock asked sarcastically. "Barnes is dead. You know anything about that?"

The smug look on Nigma's face was replaced with a look of surprise. So he really didn't know. "What? Dead?"

"Yes," Gordon answered. "Now, what was your business with Barnes? Was he a client of yours?"

Nigma rubbed his chin in thought. "No," he said. He then resumed his musings. "This does change my theory a bit," he murmured in such a low tone Gordon almost missed it.

"Was Barnes a person of interest in a case of yours?"

Nigma abruptly looked up at Gordon then, his green eyes narrowed. "He was tangential. And it isn't a matter which merited murder."

"How do you know it's murder Nigma?" Bullock demanded.

Nigma rolled his eyes. "Because even a child would know that the police commissioner wouldn't be called to the scene if he had a heart attack on the commode, Detective. Give me some credit."

"I think you know more than you're letting on, freak," Bullock hissed. He took a step towards Nigma. "What are you really doing here?" Nigma didn't move, but his grip on his cane tightened.

Gordon held his arm out in front of Bullock. "That's enough Harvey! You need to go Nigma."

Nigma looked like he wanted to say something, but shut his mouth. "Commissioner," he said tersely, then stalked off back to where he parked his car. Gordon was happy to see him leave, but he knew that Bullock was right. Nigma knew something. Gordon wanted to know exactly what it was.

As a general rule, Penelope Young wasn't called into GCPD until the police had a suspect, or if the case required her particular expertise. Or if, as it turned out to be today, the case was significantly high profile. The murder of Mayor Hill's biggest donor certainly qualified a such, despite her misgivings. She stood near the front of the crowd of officers and detectives in the GCPD bullpen, paying careful attention as Commissioner Gordon addressed them. Bullock stood to his side, looking even more aggrieved than he usually did.

"I don't think I need to tell you how interested the mayor is in this case," he said. "Barnes alone nearly bankrolled his last re-election campaign. That being said, remember, you take your orders from me, not from City Hall. Investigate this case as you would any other murder, and don't neglect your other assignments. Dismissed."

The crowd behind Penelope began to disperse. Commissioner Gordon's voice called out to her. "Dr. Young? May I see you in my office?"

"Yes," she answered. It was fairly standard. Gordon would give her the case details so she could form a psychological profile of the suspect. What wasn't standard though, was Bullock and Detective Montoya following her into the Commissioner's office. Penelope bit the inside of her lip. This case was about to take a turn for the bizarre. She could already sense it. Penelope waited until the Commissioner was seated at his desk, took her seat in front of the Commissioner's desk when he offered it.

"Do you have the report from the crime scene Commissioner?" she asked him. "I can began to form a profile of the suspect."

Gordon chuckled a bit. "Matter of fact as always," he said, sliding the file to her. "I've got the photos and the preliminary autopsy report there for you."

Penelope opened the folder and began reading through the notes. 12 stab wounds, no forced entry...a personal attack. A frenzied one, based on the pictures of the body. Interesting...

"There's another reason I asked to see you," Gordon said, warily.

Penelope put down the folder and looked up at him. "I thought as much, considering Detective Bullock and Detective Montoya's presence. Do you already have a suspect?"

Gordon rubbed the back of his neck. "Not exactly," he answered. "An old friend of ours paid a visit to the crime scene this morning."

Judging by his demeanor and the annoyed huff Bullock let out, there could only be one person Gordon was referring to. "Edward Nigma?"

"The one and only."

Penelope folded her hands in front of her face. She hadn't so much as heard from the man since the incident with Tetch almost two months ago. And yet, she'd known it was only a matter of time until their paths crossed again. He'd told her as much when he returned her journal. "I can't say I'm too surprised," she said. "A high profile case like this is like catnip to him."

"That's the funny thing: Nigma was coming to speak with Barnes about a case of his. He didn't know Barnes was dead until he saw the medical examiner."

This actually did surprise Penelope. "Did he say what his case was about?"

Gordon shook his head. "Only that it was something minor and that Barnes was tangential. It could be nothing, but-"

"It probably isn't," Penelope interrupted. Certainly Edward himself wouldn't see it that way. "Nigma's going to insert himself in this murder case regardless."

"I say we haul his ass in here and make him spill what he knows," Bullock growled. He clenched his right hand into a fist to emphasize his point, something that deeply irritated Penelope.

"That would be a mistake," Penelope said. "Treating him as if he's a suspect is only going to put him on the defensive and make him even less cooperative than he might be otherwise. And getting into a battle of egos with Edward Nigma is a fight you'll never win. You'll just be wasting time."

Bullock sneered at her. "What do you suggest then Doc? Invite him into GCPD and ask him to work for us?"

Penelope was about to retort, but then stopped to fully consider what Bullock said. "That...actually may be the best thing we can do."

The silence in the room was immediate. Bullock stared wide eyed at her. "Are-are you serious?" Montoya asked her.

Gordon leaned forward slightly in his chair. Had this thought already occurred to him? "Go on, Dr. Young."

Penelope took a breath, than addressed the three other people in the room. "What does Edward Nigma want, more than anything? What motivates him?"

Montoya shrugged. "His ego. He wants everyone to know that he's the smartest man in Gotham."

"Exactly. He wants the validation. The GCPD asking him to collaborate on a case with them? That's the ultimate validation for him. He won't be able to resist that. And if he sees the GCPD as a potential ally instead of an obstacle or as an enemy, that could be mutually beneficial in the future." It sounded like a half baked idea, but the more Penelope thought about it, the more it made sense. This could actually work.

Gordon considered this, stroking his chin. "Nigma's pretty used to flying solo. He's not going to want to take orders or share credit."

"No," Penelope conceded. "But if you invite him in and set the terms of the arrangement, that will give you more control of the situation than if he acts as a free agent. We'd be able to avoid the chaos of the Arkham Memorial."

"Again with the Arkham Memorial," Bullock spat out. He leaned over her seat, glowering at her. "So Nigma catches one guy and saves your life Doc. Is that supposed to make us forget all the times cops got maimed because of those stupid puzzles of his?"

Penelope fixed a steely glare back up at Bullock. "I treated him at Arkham, Detective. I know full well what he's done and what he was capable of." What the Riddler was capable of. Penelope was beginning to think that they'd only skimmed the surface of what Edward Nigma might be capable of in this new context. "And anything that might have passed between myself and Nigma at the memorial has nothing to do with my judgement here. I resent the implication."

Bullock sheepishly backed up a bit. "That all being said," Gordon cut in, "I'm not about to give the man free reign in the GCPD. Someone will need to work with Nigma and supervise him."

Another silence settled on the room. "There's not an officer in this building who will agree to work with Nigma," Montoya said finally. "Too much bad blood."

Penelope knew that Montoya was right. She also realized that there may be only one person in the building who could work with Edward and have any chance at being able to interact with him in a civilized way. "I'll do it," she said. "I'll work with him."

Gordon himself was caught off guard. "Dr. Young, are you sure? I can assign an officer-"

"No," Penelope said holding her hand up. "It was my idea. I'll take full ownership of it."

Gordon sighed. "Alright. But I'm still assigning an officer to look after you. If Nigma even agrees to do this."

Penelope turned to look at the detectives. Montoya's expression was guarded, but Bullock's dark expression more than made up for it. "I just want to go on the record as saying this is a bad idea." He pointed his finger at Penelope. "And if Nigma steps out of line even once Doc, I'm holdin' you responsible for it!"

Penelope narrowed her eyes. "That's fine Bullock. If that makes you happy."

The detective gave her one last glare and then stomped out of the office, slamming the door behind him so hard it shook the frame. Montoya followed him out, not giving Penelope a glance. Gordon sighed. "I think most of Bullock's fellow officers will agree with him about this. You might get a bit of backlash for this."

"It's the best way Commissioner," Penelope stated. Let them hate her for this. She was used to that by now. "No matter what, Nigma's going to be investigating the Barnes murder. This is our best chance to figure out what he knows." And her best chance to get inside his head. He'd said he wanted to trust her. She'd never gotten that far with him in Arkham. If he felt he could confide in her, she could find out what was truly going between him and Hugo Strange.

Across the desk from her, Gordon leaned back in his chair. "I know," he said. "To tell you the truth, I've thought about this a lot since he's reformed. I guess it was only a matter of time until this happened." He got out of his chair and pulled on his jacket. "Well, I'm off to his office. Here's hoping he's willing to listen. Got any tips for how to approach him?"

Penelope cocked her head a bit as she thought. "I think it's best to be completely honest with him. He'll see through any attempt at manipulating him." If there was anything she learned from the Tetch incident, it was that manipulating him was about the last thing anyone should do to Nigma.

"Alright. Anything else I should know about?"

Penelope hesistated. She'd never told Gordon just how involved she'd been in Edward's rescue from Tetch. Or what she'd heard during his exchange with him and with Selina Kyle. She'd never told anyone that she had seen the Riddler emotionally vulnerable. Grieving. Just who really was Edward Nigma? Gordon was looking expectantly at her, waiting for an answer. "No," she said. "Nothing I can think of."

If Gordon didn't fully believe her, he didn't show it. "Well," he said. "I'm off. Go ahead and start looking through that case file. If all goes well, I'll be back with Nigma in about an hour." He left his office then, closing the door behind him. Penelope stared back at the case file, but her mind was elsewhere.

"I'm going to figure you out, Edward Nigma," she murmured. "It's only a matter of time."


	2. The Unlikely Partnership, Pt 2

Back in his office, Edward taped a picture of William Barnes on the center of his whiteboard. He then drew a line in red marker to another picture on the board. This was a school picture of one Eric Brewer, college student and son of Edward's latest client, Thomas Brewer. His overbearing, obscenely wealthy client. Edward replaced the cap on the marker and tapped it against the side of his face as he mentally reviewed the last few hours. He'd met with the senior Brewer the previous evening and agreed to look into the disappearance of the man's son. Apparently, young Eric had cleaned out the joint account he shared with his father, abruptly quit his internship with William Barnes and dropped off the face of the Earth. Edward frowned as he recalled the meeting. After the Bierko case, he wasn't especially eager to investigate another missing person. It didn't help that Thomas Brewer had been possibly the most unpleasant client he'd had in his short career as a private investigator but the man could more than pay his fee and Ellen's child support wasn't going to pay itself. And besides, Edward had thought, it was more than likely that the boy had just absconded with Daddy's cash and taken off for a weekend in Metropolis. Low risk, high reward, just the way he liked it. He had intended to speak with Barnes that morning about the last time he'd spoken with Eric.

The man's death had put a damper on that.

Edward took a step back from the whiteboard and pondered. "Eric Brewer cleans out his account and quits his internship. Not two days later, his former employer is murdered in his home. Coincidence?" He snorted. "Hardly. There's a connection. I just need to find it."

"Nigma? Are you in?"

Edward startled a bit at the voice coming from behind his office door. That was Commissioner Gordon. Why was Commissioner Gordon here? Edward chuckled a bit. This day was just getting more and more interesting. "Come in Commissioner. The door's unlocked."

A moment of silence passed before Edward heard his door open and the heavy footsteps of the Commissioner approach. He heard the man clear his throat before he deigned to greet him. "Good afternoon Commissioner," he drawled, finally turning to face him. Gordon said nothing in response, still standing in the doorway between the waiting room and the main office. He almost let out a laugh when he saw how apprehensive the man looked. "You can come in you know. No death traps, I promise."

"Funny," Gordon replied, his tone as dark as his countenance. He came forward anyway, taking a moment to look at Edward's whiteboard. "Keeping busy I see."

"Well I try," Edward sassed. He leaned back against his desk and took a moment to really look at the older man. His body language was stiff, both hands clenched into fists. the very picture of a man who'd rather be anywhere but here. "I take it this isn't a welfare check."

Gordon shook his head. "I think you know full well why I'm here Nigma."

Edward's eyes narrowed. "The Barnes murder. Well Commissioner, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I have no intention of sitting this out. I-"

Gordon held up his hand and said something that Edward never expected to hear from his lips. "I want you to work with GCPD on this case."

Edward blinked once. Then he let out a low, dry chuckle. "Well, well well. Finally admitting you need my assistance, Commissioner?"

"Let's make one thing clear Nigma: I'm not asking for your help. I'm just making an offer to collaborate."

"You can call it whatever you like Commissioner. The point is, you're asking me to work with you on a case." Edward knew he was being more smug than perhaps was wise, but he'd been waiting for this day since the first case he'd cracked as a PI. He thought a little smugness was deserved. He grinned at the Commissioner. "That means you need my help. Or is that too painful to admit?"

Gordon set his jaw firmly. "Are you interested or not Nigma?"

Edward was very much interested, despite his distaste for the GCPD. He hadn't actually set foot in the building since his reformation and a tour was long overdue. It might also give him the chance to do a bit of recruiting for informants. He wasn't about to commit to anything blind however. "I've offered my assistance on cases more taxing than this. Why are you coming to me now?"

Gordon sighed and placed his hands into his coat pocket. "Because no matter what I say, you're going to stick your nose into this and the last thing I want is a repeat of the Arkham Memorial."

Edward raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You mean the memorial where I caught a man who murdered Dr. Kellerman and prevented him from killing Dr. Young? Was it that embarrassing for the GCPD Commissioner?"

Gordon narrowed his eyes. "You almost got yourself killed Nigma. Dr. Young had to get involved to make sure Horner didn't blow your brains out and almost got killed in the process. You don't get to pat yourself on the back for protecting her when your actions put her in more danger in the first place."

Edward could feel his face flush. "If that's your opinion Commissioner," he said tersely. "Than why do you even want me to work with you at all?"

Gordon looked at Edward dead on. "I don't like you Nigma," he said finally. "You're a smug, arrogant egomaniac with an over-inflated sense of your own abilities and those are your good points." Gordon sighed again. "But, you've kept your nose clean for the past year. You've done some good work. I don't know if I can ever trust you, but I think it'd be better for all of us if we could work together on cases instead of trying to compete with each other."

Edward could give Gordon credit for one thing: the man was unfailingly honest. He didn't get the sense that Gordon was trying to set him up, unlike with Sharp all those months ago. Edward relaxed, slightly. "I take it there are conditions?"

Gordon nodded. "For starters, no going to the media. I see one camera in GCPD and you're out on your ass."

Edward nodded, idly tapping his fingers on the desk. "Understood. And?"

"I don't expect you to behave like a completely upstanding citizen, but do me a favor and try to keep a lid on the ego while you're around my officers."

Edward rolled his eyes. Always the complaints about his so called ego. "Fine," he sighed dramatically. "What else?"

Gordon paused for a moment. Edward found himself dreading what he'd say next. "You'll be working with someone in GCPD. She'll be party to every action you take when on this case."

Edward stood straight up then. "I don't need a minder, Commissioner," he seethed. "And I won't let myself be subjected to whatever mental midget you intend to pawn me off of-" Edward's voice trailed off when he caught up to the last part of Gordon's sentence. "She? Who are you subjecting me to? Montoya?"

Gordon shook his head. "No. Dr. Young volunteered to work with you."

Edward narrowed his eyes and considered this information. "Did she now..." he answered. That explained why Gordon was coming to him now. She'd either fed him the idea or he'd already been thinking of it and she'd reinforced it. Clearly, she wanted something from him. And he had a guess what that was. He clapped his hands together. "Very well then. Commissioner, I am at your disposal."

Gordon looked slightly surprised, but recovered quickly. "Alright. Get anything you think you'll need. I'll drive us."

Edward grabbed his notes on the Brewer case and his photos of Brewer the Younger from the whiteboard. He followed Gordon out of his office, stopping only to grab his cane and hat from the coat stand.

The two men passed the car ride to GCPD in silence. Edward had tried just once to change the radio station in Gordon's car, but a glare from the commissioner ensured he kept his hands to himself. Their arrival at the headquarters was uneventful as well...that was, until they got to the entrance. Edward was about to follow Gordon into the front entrance when he was stopped by a burly uniformed officer. "You'll need to go through security."

Edward looked at Gordon in consternation. "He's not serious."

Gordon shrugged. "Standard procedure Nigma. See you inside." And with that, Gordon left Edward to be subjected to GCPD's security protocols. Edward supposed it was to be expected. After all, it was because of people like him that GCPD needed to have such protocols in the first place. He wasn't about to go quietly however.

The officer gestured to his cane. "What have you got there?"

Edward rolled his eyes. "A cane. It's a an instrument used to assist in walking, or in my case, a stylistic choice. Surely even a troglodyte like you doesn't need help working that out."

This was evidently the wrong thing to say as the cop roughly grabbed the cane from him. "We know all about your trick canes, Riddler. What's in this one? A gun? A grappling hook?" The cop tried to unscrew the handle off of the cane, with no success. He even tried to hit the handle against the ground to get it off. The cane was too well constructed to break though. Edward had paid enough for it to ensure that.

Edward smirked. "Are you quite finished?" The cop shoved the cane back into his hands and then pushed him forward. "Where are you taking me now?" Edward groused. The cop stopped him in front of a metal detector just outside the doorway.

"Empty your pockets and step through the detector."

Edward looked at the detector then back at the cop. "You do remember that I've got a plate in my skull, don't you? I could walk through that naked and still set it off."

The cop ground his teeth. "Just empty your pockets or I'll do it for you, freak."

Edward set his jaw, then did as he was told, eyes never leaving the cop's face. After he'd emptied his pockets of any loose change and set his case file on the counter, the cop aggressively pat him down. Edward bit his tongue. Finally the cop stood back, eyes still glaring at Edward. "Alright," he said. "Get your stuff and get in. Any funny stuff and I'll blow you away."

Edward collected his file and gave the cop a cold smirk. "I'll remember that," he said. He then walked past the cop and into GCPD.

He came through the front door and was confronted with what he supposed was the bullpen. It had been a long time since he'd been in GCPD. There were a number of officers milling about their desks, speaking with each other. As soon as one younger officer spotted him, the room fell silent. Edward stood still for a moment, gauging the reactions of the police. Some of the younger uniformed officers, those who would have started after his coma, looked a bit awestruck by the presence of a Rogue in their midst. The older ones, the ones who had faced off against him in his criminal days, looked at him in suspicion. A few of them were outright contemptuous of him. Edward stepped forward a bit then, feeling the eyes of the GCPD on him. One false step, one errant word and Edward suspected that the cop from earlier wouldn't be alone in killing him. He tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach and pressed forward. He would not let them see him rattled by them.

"Nigma?"

Edward looked to his side and saw Gordon waiting for him outside of an interview room. Gordon waved him over to the room and Edward walked over, ignoring the stares of the officers all the while. Gordon gestured in the room. "Dr. Young's waiting for you in there. She wants to go over the case with you before we have a briefing."

Edward nodded. "Well, best not to keep the lady waiting." Edward was about to step in when Gordon leaned in close.

"She volunteered to work with you Nigma. Remember that. Don't pull any of your stunts with her."

Edward glared. "She knew what she was getting into when she volunteered Commissioner. I doubt she'd appreciate you patronizing her like this."

Gordon said nothing and moved to allow Edward entrance. Once Edward walked into the room, he heard the door shut behind him. Inside the room, sitting at one end of a table, was Dr. Young. She was poring over a case file of her own, only looking up when she heard Edward enter. For the first time in nearly two months, Edward found himself face to face with Dr. Young. Her expression was unreadable, her blue eyes cold. Calculating. There was something familiar to Edward there. No doubt their sessions back at Arkham started a similar way. Edward took the initiative. He tipped his hat to her. "Good afternoon, Dr. Young."

"Hello Edward," she answered, in a cool tone that Edward had come to think was her default. "How have you been?"

Not a bad start, Edward thought, if her intent was to disarm him. He shrugged as he made his way to the seat on the opposite end of the table from her. "I can't complain," he answered. "I haven't been kidnapped or held at gunpoint recently, if that's what you mean." He sat down in the desk chair, placing his file on the table and propping his cane alongside his chair. "Yourself?"

Dr. Young's expression didn't change. "I've been well," she answered. "Did Gordon tell you what we'd be doing here?"

"I wouldn't be here if he hadn't, Dr. Young," he answered, thankful that she'd moved on from small talk. He wasn't in any mood to rehash what had happened at Tetch's hideout. "I believe that we'll be working the Barnes murder case together?"

"Essentially," she said. "I'd also like to know what case you're working on that concerned Barnes."

Edward flashed her what he hoped was a charming grin. "How about a trade? I'll give you my case file, if you give me yours. It's only fair."

Dr. Young didn't respond to the grin, but slid her file to him. "Barnes was murdered in his home at around midnight last night. He was stabbed to death. Nothing was missing from his home and there was no sign of a break-in."

Edward picked up the file and began to skim through it. "Sounds like he knew his killer." He winced slightly at the crime scene photos. "A dozen stab wounds? That's quite a way to go." He looked back to to see Dr. Young looking expectantly at him. He slid his file over to her. "Barnes was the employer of the subject of my latest case. Correction, former employer. I was hired by Thomas Brewer to investigate the disappearance of his son, Eric two days ago."

Dr. Young raised a dark eyebrow. "I didn't think you'd be willing to take on another missing persons case."

"Well, I wasn't, but Mr. Brewer has the money to spend, so how could I refuse?"

Dr. Young began to look through his file and Edward began to look at Dr. Young. It had been months since he'd first encountered her and yet, he wasn't entirely sure how he felt about her. Maybe if he recalled anything about her from his asylum days beyond the TITAN experiment he'd feel more at ease. As it stood, she was a puzzled he hadn't quite figured out yet. She'd seemed to utterly loathe him when they'd encountered each other at the fundraiser all those months ago and yet she'd assisted Selina in finding him. She'd kept Strange from him, but she seemed detached from him now. And yet, she'd volunteered to work with him in this case. In his experience, people only wanted to be around him when they wanted something from him. The only person who hadn't followed that pattern was Jonathan. Edward's heart clenched slightly. Not here. Not now.

"So what have you found out so far about Eric Brewer?" Dr. Young's voice broke through.

"Nothing consequential." Edward answered, acting as if he hadn't been elsewhere. "Eric is a sophomore student at Gotham University and up until two days ago, an intern at Barnes' law firm. Thomas Brewer was making a deposit in their joint account two days ago when he discovered that Eric had cleaned it out. When he was unable to get a hold of Eric, he called Barnes, who informed him that Eric had quit his internship. When Brewer was unable to locate Eric, he came to me."

Dr. Young out the file done and folded her hands in front of her face in thought. "So this Eric Brewer disappears and then his former employer is murdered, most likely by someone he knows. That doesn't sound like a coincidence."

Edward shook his head. "No, it doesn't." Whatever other faults she had, at least this Dr. Young wasn't slow on the uptake. Time to see how clever she actually was. "What are your thoughts?"

Dr. Young looked a bit surprised. "Well, it's just speculation...but the fact that Eric cleaned out his account and then quit his internship...it sounds like he was planning to get away from something."

Edward smiled a bit. Those had been his thoughts. "But what? Was he planning to kill Barnes and then make a break for it, or did he find out something that put him and Barnes in danger?"

"We need to find out more about Eric Brewer," Dr. Young answered. She checked her watch. "Gordon asked that after we met, that we report to him and the senior detectives. I'll be sharing my profile of the suspect then as well. We'll figure out what to do from there."

Edward gestured towards the door. "After you then, Dr." As Dr. Young moved to get out from her chair, Edward had a question he wanted to ask her. "Tell me Dr: this team up. Was that Gordon's idea, or yours?"

Dr. Young paused. "He'd had the idea to collaborate with you for awhile," she answered finally. "I just helped support the idea."

Edward nodded. She seemed to be telling him the truth. He leaned forward conspiratorially towards her. "I know what this is really about, Dr. The whole inviting me to GCPD. You're trying to appeal to my ego."

Dr. Young stared back at him, the expressionless look back on her face. "And why would I be doing that?"

Edward chuckled a bit. "You want information from me. I remember you wanting to know about me and Hugo Strange when we last met. You think that if you let me work on a case with GCPD I'll be willing to share that information with you." He leaned back in his seat, propping his hands behind his head. "Am I right?"

Dr. Young briefly looked down at the table. Bulls eye. She then looked up at Edward again, eyes flashing. "You knew that from the start, didn't you?"

"You're far from the first to try that game with me, Dr. Young. You'll be far from the last."

"But you came here anyway. You couldn't resist the challenge."

Edward chuckled again. "It's been a while since I've had one. Are you up to it?"

Dr. Young gave him a grave look. "Edward, I want to make one thing perfectly clear. This isn't a game to me. I don't want to manipulate you. And I don't want you to try to manipulate me. I want us to try to trust each other. After everything we've done for each other already, I want to think that's possible."

Well. She was saying the right things. Did she actually mean it? Only one way to find out. "Just one thing: you are not my psychiatrist. I don't want to hear anything from you regarding my mental state or how I'm feeling unless it becomes relevant to the case. In return, I won't bring up anything related to the TITAN incident or Arkham Asylum. Deal?"

Dr. Young's face flushed somewhat at the mention of her misbegotten experiment, but she nodded. "Very well. That's fair. And if we solve this case, will you tell me what's going on between you and Strange?"

Edward grinned. "We'll see, Dr. Young. We'll see."

Dr. Young got up out of her seat. "Well then, let's go meet with Gordon." Edward got up as well and opened the door for her. Dr. Young gave him a odd look, then walked towards the Commissioner's office.

Edward paused a bit before following her out. When he was sure she couldn't hear him, he said one thing.

"Game on, Dr. Young."


	3. The Unlikely Partnership, Pt 3

Gordon, Bullock and Montoya were already waiting for Penelope when she entered the office. As Penelope took her seat, Bullock gave her a snide look. "Where's the Genius?"

Before she could answer, the door to the office opened and Edward strolled in. He addressed the room with a sweep of his arms. "Good afternoon again Commissioner. Detective Montoya." He made eye contact with Bullock and his tone shifted. "Bullock." Bullock growled at him in response. Undeterred, Edward took the seat next to Penelope. Penelope mentally prepared for what was sure to be an interesting conversation. The next few minutes would determine if Edward could work cooperatively with GCPD without Batman's presence serving as a check on his impulses. She briefly glanced to the side of the room where Bullock and Montoya were standing, their eyes fixed on Edward. Any hint of an outburst from Edward and they'd come down on him. She hoped it wouldn't come to that. As confident as she was when she suggested the idea of Edward working with GCPD to them, Penelope had no illusions that she could control him. She could only attempt to help channel his behavior in a constructive manner.

If Edward was aware of the attention being paid him, and Penelope was certain he was, he made no sign of it. He leaned back in his seat and addressed Gordon. "So," he said, conversationally. "Shall we begin?"

Commissioner Gordon didn't appear to be in the mood for Edward's theatrics. "First thing's first Nigma: what were you investigating that involved Barnes?"

"As I said this morning, Barnes wasn't strictly speaking involved in my case," Edward answered. "Yesterday, Thomas Brewer hired me to find his son."

Gordon's brow furrowed. "Eric? He's missing?"

Penelope was a bit surprised. "You know him, Commissioner?"

Gordon nodded. " Not well. His father Thomas Brewer used to work with the DA'S office. He's given a lot of money to the GCPD. I've met his son a few times at police benefits. Why did he hire you Nigma, instead of coming to GCPD?"

Edward smirked. "Probably for my unparalleled brilliance, but you'd have to ask him for yourself."

Or because Brewer suspects his son is involved in something that he doesn't want GCPD to know about, Penelope thought to herself. Beneath the showboating, she'd be shocked if Edward didn't suspect the exact same thing.

"What have you found out about Eric?" Gordon asked Edward.

"Well, nothing of too much consequence. Eric apparently cleaned out the joint account and quit his internship with Barnes' law firm before he disappeared. He hasn't been present in any of his classes at Gotham University for the past few days either. I was going to ask Barnes for more details about why Eric quit, but-"

"But then he was killed," Gordon finished. The Commissioner sighed. "So, Eric may have been one of the last people to see Barnes alive and now he's missing. I don't like this one bit."

"While I need to find him, I think it would be a bit premature to call him a suspect." Edward said.

"How do you figure?" Bullock asked him. "Kid loses his job and then his boss gets killed? That doesn't scream prime suspect to you?"

"I didn't say he lost his job," Edward said, giving Bullock a long suffering look. "According to what Barnes told the elder Brewer, Eric Brewer quit his internship. Why would he murder his former employer when he left voluntarily? Not to mention, according to what I've found out about this case from Dr. Young, there was no forced entry. If you had fired someone, would you voluntarily let them into your home?"

"He cleaned out his account and now he's missing," Montoya countered. "That sounds like someone that's up to something. Maybe he was preparing to kill Barnes and then make a run for it."

Edward was about to open his mouth when Penelope spoke up. "Except most workplace related killings take place in the workplace." Edward gave her a look that seemed to her to be a mix of irritation that she'd cut him off and relief that she'd agreed with him. Once she had the attention of the room, she continued. "Workplace killers follow a fairly consistent profile. They're loners with narcissistic tendencies and a pattern of troubled behavior in the workplace. They tend to stew over their perceived slights and then they explode. Eric should have killed Barnes in the office if this was a typical workplace killing." Penelope took out the autopsy report and placed it on Gordon's desk. Gordon leaned over to take a closer look and out of the corner of her eye, Penelope could see Edward leaning in too. Once she was satisfied that she had both men's attention, she continued. "There's also the manner of death to consider. Barnes was stabbed repeatedly, but the first few wounds were shallow, almost hesitant, then they gradually built in intensity."

"Interesting," Edward mused. "Was the murder weapon recovered?"

"The coroner identified the weapon as a kitchen knife found in Barnes' sink," Montoya answered.

"What are you two thinking?" Gordon asked. "That the person who killed Barnes didn't initially go there to kill him?"

Penelope nodded. "It's possible."

"So what about the Brewer kid?" Bullock asked. "You can't tell me he ain't involved somehow."

"Oh I don't doubt he is," Edward said. "But he's not the killer."

"I wouldn't be so quick to say that," Penelope interjected. "We need to find out more information about him to even begin to find out his motive, but I'm confident in naming him a suspect."

Gordon nodded, then looked at Edward. "Well? What have you found out about Eric?"

Edward leaned back in his seat and shrugged. "Nothing of much consequence. Eric isn't exactly what one would call a social butterfly. According to his father, he has no friends and is only an average student. He worked at Barnes's firm helping to file paperwork about three days a week."

"Have you spoken to anyone Eric knew on campus?" Penelope asked him. "Or any of his professors?"

Edward gave her a wry look. "No offense, Dr. Young, but do you think I can go on a college campus without causing a scene?"

Gordon sighed. "Fair enough. I'll send a uniformed officer with you to go talk to anyone Eric might have known on campus."

Edward bristled a bit at that mention of a uniformed officer. Penelope remembered that Gordon had mentioned having one to accompany them during the investigation. She just hoped that their presence wouldn't cause Edward to default to his more difficult behavior. Penelope thought it was a minor miracle that he was being as civil as he was. "I don't need to be supervised Commissioner," he hissed.

"It's about preserving the integrity of the investigation Nigma," Gordon answered. "Neither you nor Dr. Young are official members of GCPD. I can't exactly send the two of you to investigate without making sure proper procedure is being followed."

"And yet you freely work with vigilantes," Edward sassed back. "Or are you going to tell me that Batman follows proper GCPD procedure?"

Penelope stifled a groan as Gordon's face darkened. Did he really have to go there? "That is not relevant to the case here Nigma," Gordon said. "If you want to collaborate on this case, you follow my rules. Understood?"

Edward narrowed his eyes at Gordon and he tensed. His body language reminded Penelope of when he was her patient at Arkham, just before one of his tantrums would compromise a session. For a moment, Penelope thought he was about to get up and walk out of the room. Her heart sank. If he did, she'd never get the opportunity to work this closely with him again and she'd never be able to get him to open up to her. Just as she thought the worst, Edward sank back into his seat. "Very well," he said. "Just don't stick me with a complete imbecile."

Penelope breathed an inward sigh of relief. Gordon leaned back. "Alright then," he said. "I'll leave you and Dr. Young to find out what you can about Eric. Harv, you and Renee go to Barnes' firm and find out what he was working on lately that might have gotten him in trouble. Report back to me by the end of the day. You're dismissed."

Bullock and Montoya left the office first. Montoya exited without looking back but Bullock fixed both Edward and Penelope with a dark glare. Edward cheekily waved at him before Bullock stomped out. Edward hopped up out of his seat and leaned down to pick up his cane. He looked expectantly at Dr. Young. "Shall we?"

"Just a moment," Gordon said. "I'd like to talk to you for a moment Dr. Young. Alone."

Edward looked at them for a moment, his expression unreadable. He acquiesced to Gordon's request however and left the room.

As soon as he was gone, Gordon asked Penelope as question. "How'd your first meeting with him go?"

"As well as could be expected," Penelope answered. "He seems genuinely interested in working with me." She left out that Edward had seen through her idea of reaching out to him. Until she knew exactly what was going on between Strange and Edward, it wouldn't do any good for Gordon to be made aware of it.

"How's his mental state?"

Penelope bit her lip. "I haven't been alone with him enough to really say," she answered truthfully. "But I don't see any indication that he's lapsing."

Gordon let out a sigh of relief. "That's good. Too bad we can't say the same about his personality. Are you sure you're alright with working with him? I can assign-"

"I'll be fine," Penelope interrupted with a slight edge to her voice. "Are you questioning my judgement?"

Gordon held up his hands placatingly. "If I had any doubts about your capabilities Dr. Young, I would never have invited you to consult with us at all, let alone go along with this." Gordon lowered his hands and gave her a look that Penelope recognized as being almost paternal. She bristled at it. "I know you had a rough time of it after Arkham," he said in a low tone. "If he becomes too much for you at any point, let me know."

Penelope held back what she wanted to say and instead nodded. "Thank you, but that won't be necessary. I can handle him."

Gordon nodded. "Alright then. The GCPD officer I've aasigned to work with you will be waiting out front for you. Good luck."

Penelope got out of her seat and made her way to the door. As she opened it, she noticed that Edward was waiting for her. "Are you done convincing Gordon I'm not about to take over the place?"

Penelope arched an eyebrow. Had he been listening in? "What makes you think we were discussing you?"

Edward chuckled. "Well, I doubt he kept you behind after I left to discuss the weather with you. What did you tell him?"

"The truth," Penelope answered. "That I believe I'll be able to work with you on this."

Edward nodded. "What else have you told him I wonder?"

It took a moment for Penelope to realize what he meant. "If you're referring to the Bierko case," she spoke in a low tone, "He knows what's in my official report. As for whatever passed between you, Tetch and Ms. Kyle, that's your own affair."

Edward's expression was unreadable as he nodded. "Good," he murmured. He then abruptly walked away from the door and towards the front entrance of the GCPD building. "Well then," he said almost theatrically. "Off to Gotham University?"

Penelope walked briskly to keep pace with him. "The officer we'll be working with will be accompanying us there. For all of our sakes, try to be civil." What a pair the two of them must make she thought as they walked past other officers through GCPD.

Edward huffed. "I'll have you know that I've been called very polite for a man of my background, thank you very much. As long as whoever Gordon assigned to us is civil with me, I see no reason why I can't-" Edward stopped suddenly just as the two were at the front door. His jaw nearly dropped in shock and he sputtered. "How-what-what is he doing here!?"

Penelope looked to where he pointed and saw instantly what had made Edward go from eager to nearly apoplectic. There in the door way, stood GCPD Officer Aaron Cash. When he made eye contact with them, he walked over to the two of them. Aaron gave her a polite nod. "Nice to see you again Doc Young." He turned to Edward then and all of the politeness he'd shown her died. "Well well well," he drawled. "Long time no see Nigma."

"Not nearly long enough," Edward groused. "What are you even doing here Cash?"

"He works here Edward," Penelope answered. "Did Gordon assign you to work with us Aaron?"

"Nah. When I heard Riddle-Boy here was coming, I volunteered."

"Well isn't that upstanding of you?" Edward asked in a nasty tone of voice. He slowly clapped. "Let's all give a hand to Aaron Cash! He could certainly use one."

Penelope tried not to shrink as other officers and staff looked their way. "Edward," she hissed. "Don't."

"It's alright Doc," Aaron said. "I only need one hand to keep his sorry ass in line."

"Resorting to violent threats already," Edward clucked his tongue. "You haven't changed a bit Cash."

Aaron was only two inches taller than Edward, but his sheer bulk made him seem much larger as he loomed down at Edward. "You haven't changed much either Nigma. Still the same smart mouth you always had. You don't shape up and I'll knock that tacky fedora off your head."

Edward's jaw dropped at that. "Fedora? Fedora!? This is a Bowler hat you ignorant swine!"

"Whatever it is, it's going in the garbage if you don't shut your mouth."

Edward looked at Penelope with a scandalized expression on his face. "Did you hear that Dr. Young? He's threatening my personal property! Are you going to stand for that?"

Penelope had just about had enough of this. "If the two of you are quite done with this elementary school banter," she said, "We have a missing person to find."

Aaron at least looked somewhat sheepish. "Sorry Doc. Where are we going?"

"Gotham University," she answered. "I'll share the details with you on our way."

"I'll share the details," Edward said peevishly. "It's still my case."

Aaron rolled his eyes at Edward's display. "I'll get my car ready." As he exited the building, Penelope glared at Edward.

Edward looked at her and shrugged. "What?"

"How is it," Penelope asked, "That you can't remember a single one of our sessions, but you remember that you hate Aaron?"

Edward just shrugged. "I'm not exactly in control of my memory Dr. Young and it's not my fault that Aaron Cash is a particularly loathsome human being."

"He is not," Penelope hissed out. "And your amnesia is no excuse for bad behavior."

Edward rolled his eyes. "Yes mother," he sassed. "How many sessions did we have anyway?"

Penelope stiffened slightly. "Didn't you say that you wouldn't bring up Arkham?"

"You opened the door Dr. Young. How many sessions did we have?"

Penelope hated to concede a point to anyone, let alone a point to the most arrogant person she'd ever known. She sighed in defeat. "76."

Edward's facial expression turned from curious to shocked. "You're joking."

"Do I look like the joking type Edward?"

"I would remember having 76 sessions with one person Dr. Young."

"I seem to recall you saying on the news that you woke up not even remembering your own name Edward."

Edward sulked a bit. "True, but that's a low blow Doctor."

Penelope let out an irritated sigh. Not even half an hour being in his company and she was beginning to remember just how aggravating he really was.

"76 sessions," she heard him muse. "Was I that intriguing to you Doctor, or are you just that stubborn?"

Penelope was grateful to see Aaron's car pull up to the front of the building. "We should get going," she said. She opened the door and opened the front passenger door to Aaron's car. She heard the back door open as she sat down.

"Next stop, Gotham University," Aaron said. He looked up at his rear view mirror and shot Edward a warning look as he buckled himself in the back seat. "Don't even think about touching anything in my car Nigma."

Penelope heard Edward scoff. "I have shoes that are more expensive than this jalopy Cash. Trust me, there's nothing in here that I want."

"Just keep your hands to yourself," Aaron said as he pulled out of the GCPD parking lot. "So, who's the missing person?"

"Eric Brewer," Edward answered. "Thomas Brewer's son. You do know who Thomas Barnes is, don't you Cash?'

"Yeah I know who he is," Aaron snapped back. He glanced at Penelope. "You think he's a suspect in the Barnes murder?"

Just as Penelope was about to answer in the affirmative, Edward interjected. "No, but he's a person of interest."

"I wasn't asking you Nigma!"

"Well you should be," Edward raised his voice. "I was asked to come to GCPD to lend my brilliant intellect to this case-"

"No," Aaron interrupted. "You're just here because Batman couldn't be."

Penelope sank into her seat as an argument broke out between the two men. This was going to be a long case.


	4. The Unlikely Partnership, pt 4

So far, Edward thought bitterly to himself, this 'partnership' with GCPD was more like a supervised consultation than a real partnership. He'd actually been looking forward to testing Dr. Young's intellect investigating Eric Brewer's disappearance after her display in Gordon's office, even if she was off the mark about Brewer being the murderer. He'd even been willing to put up with an officer for God's sake! Why did it have to be Aaron Cash? He hadn't seen the man since he'd last been incarcerated, but just seeing the man again brought all the unpleasant memories back to the surface. Edward scowled. For someone who said she wanted to trust him, Dr. Young was quick to take Cash's side. She was also quick to take the side of the dean of Gotham University, who recoiled at Edward's presence in his office. That was why she and Cash were in talking with him now, while Edward was sitting in a chair outside the office, like an errant school boy waiting to see the principal. He tapped his fingers on the head of his cane irritably, ignoring the stares from passers by. Finally, the door opened. Edward sat up straighter when he heard Dr. Young's voice.

"Thank you for the information. I promise, we'll be as discreet as we can."

"See that you are," Edward heard the dean reply. "And make sure that he stays away from our students!"

Edward rolled his eyes. He heard the door slam and saw Cash and Dr. Young walk up to him. "It's about time!" He groused. "I didn't agree to this 'partnership' so I could sit on the sidelines!"

"Stop complainin' Nigma," Cash said. "It's not our fault you put the Dean in one of your stupid riddle traps years ago."

Edward blinked. That would explain why the man nearly had a panic attack when he saw him. "I have no memory of that."

Cash snorted. "Yeah. Right. Well come on genius. Time to check out the kid's dorm room."

Edward got up out of his seat and dramatically extended his right arm. "Lead the way then Cash."

Cash rolled his eyes and took the lead, passing Edward. Dr. Young hung back, seeming to wait for him. Edward addressed her as they walked out of the office. "Get anything useful from the dean?"

"It's as you said," she answered, keeping a brisk pace. "Eric Brewer was an average student, except for his political science classes. He seems to have a keen interest in politics."

Edward nodded absently. He didn't care much for the subject itself and he didn't see how this was really relevant to the boy's disappearance. "I suppose that's not too surprising, given his father's and Barnes' involvement with Mayor Hill."

"There's more," Dr. Young said. "Last semester, Eric took a class in Radical Political Thought. He was brought into the dean's office multiple times over disputes with his classmates and his professor regarding differences in opinion over certain political movements."

Well. Brewer the senior hadn't seen fit to mention this to Edward during the initial consultation. This tidbit may or may not be relevant, but it was interesting. "Wonderful. So he reads the Beginner's Guide to Karl Marx and he thinks he has the answers to all of society's ills. Typical. I suppose Daddy convinced the Dean to not hold this against Eric?"

"Well, he didn't admit to anything, but that would be my assumption, yes. Eric was dropped from the class, but no further disciplinary action was taken. The Dean also started to update Mr. Brewer regarding Eric's progress in his classes."

This was probably where Brewer got the idea to have his son work for Barnes too. "So, we're off to talk to his room mate then?"

Dr. Young nodded. "The Dean indicated that he'd be the best person to talk to regarding Eric's social life. He wasn't involved in any extracurricular activities that he knew of. If we don't get anything from him, then we can move on to his professors."

Edward gave her a wry look. "Provided you actually let me talk with them."

Dr. Young gave him a long suffering look. "Edward, it took ten minutes for me to convince the Dean to let you stay on campus after he saw you. Don't act like I'm trying to keep you off this case."

Edward said nothing in response, instead choosing to look down at his feet. Well. He hadn't expected that. The three of them crossed the school quad in silence, broken only occasionally by the gawking student body as Edward walked past. He tried not to pay attention to it, even as they started taking pictures. It wouldn't be the first time. Finally, they entered the building where Eric's dorm was located.

"We know anything about the roommate?" Cash asked, breaking the silence as they walked up the stairs.

"His name is Andrew Krakowski," Dr. Young answered. "He was assigned to the same dorm as Eric Brewer at the beginning of the semester. There haven't been any issues between the two as far as the Dean's aware."

"Thomas Brewer met him a few times when he visited Eric in the dorm," Edward added. "He didn't seem to think much of him." Then again, Edward thought, Thomas Brewer seemed to care more about his missing money than his missing son.

The three stopped in front of Room 24. "Well, here we are," Cash said. He knocked on the door. "GCPD! Anyone home?"

There was no answer, but Edward could hear the tell tale signs of someone scrambling about, opening and shutting a drawer. Cash knocked on the door, harder this time. "Open up!"

The door flew open and a young man, dressed in only a pair of boxers and a faded Rock band t-shirt. His eyes were red rimmed, but judging from the smell emanating from the room, Edward doubted he'd been crying. "Afternoon," Edward greeted. "Andrew Krakowski I presume?"

The young man nodded. "Yeah." He then squinted a bit. "Dude...no offense...but you kind of look like the Riddler."

Edward sighed impatiently. "I get that a lot. May we come in, or-"

Andrew stepped to the side to allow them access. Edward took the lead, wincing as he saw the clutter strewn about the room. Right off the bat he could see at least three reasons for this man to be expelled from school. Dr. Young looked equally unamused at the vulgar posters hung up on the wall. Andrew let out a yawn and idly scratched his belly. "What do you guys want?"

"We're here about your roommate, Eric Brewer." Cash said. "When was the last time you saw him?"

Andrew shrugged. "A few days ago, I guess."

"You guess?" Edward interrupted.

Andrew looked his way, then his jaw dropped. "Holy shit! You are the Riddler!"

Edward resisted the urge to smack this boy upside the head with his cane. Thankfully, Dr. Young intervened. "Eric's missing. We need to try to nail down his movements before he disappeared. Do you remember anything about when you last saw him?"

Andrew raised his hand and absently rubbed the back of his head. "It was about three days ago I think. I didn't really see him much. We kinda did our own thing."

Edward rolled his eyes. This would get them nowhere. He decided that he be better off looking through Eric's things. "Where is Eric's bedroom?"

"Down the hall, first door on the left-" Andrew paused and looked worried. "Wait, can he just go in his room?"

"No," Cash answered gruffly. "But I can." Cash walked down the hallway and Edward scowled. Leave it to Cash to leave him to the scintillating conversation with the stoner.

"I'm not going to get busted for the pot, am I?" Andrew asked Dr. Young nervously.

"We care more about Eric," she said reassuringly. "Do you remember anything else about the last time you saw Eric? Did he seem preoccupied by anything?"

"Nah," Andrew shrugged. "He seemed normal. Like I said thiugh, we didn't talk or see each other much. He was out late every night."

"Every night?" Dr. Young repeated. She looked questioningly at Edward. "Didn't you say that his internship was only three days a week?"

"It was," Edward said. "What was Eric out doing?"

"I dunno," Andrew answered. "I didn't ask. Look, I already told all this to a cop that came by yesterday."

"Yesterday?" Edward questioned. GCPD didn't know about Eric's disappearance until Edward himself had told them. How could this person know?

"Are you certain this was a police officer?" Dr. Young asked. "Did they show you a badge?"

Andrew shook his head. "Nah, but he was in a suit. Looked like a detective."

"Did he say who he was?" Edward interjected impatiently.

Andrew shrugged again. "Maybe. I was kinda out of it."

"Andrew, this is very important," Dr. Young asked, an edge creeping into her voice. Clearly, she was becoming just as fed up with Andrew as he was. "What did this man ask you about Eric?"

"He wanted to know where he was, if he talked at all about his internship. I said I didn't know and he left."

If this didn't convince Dr. Young that there was more to the Barnes murder than a simple work dispute, nothing would. "Is there anything else you can add?"

Andrew shook his head. "I don't think so." Cash walked back into the living room, carrying a laptop computer under his arm. "Found this in Eric's room. All of his clothes and books were still there."

"I think we've found out all that we're going to here," Edward said eying the laptop eagerly. That was where the evidence was, he was certain. "We should take that back to GCPD."

Cash looked at Dr. Young. "You agree?"

Dr. Young thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yes. We can come back to talk to his professors if we don't find anything on the computer. We also need to talk to Gordon about what we just found out."

Cash nodded. "Alright then."

As the three exited the room Andrew had one last thing to add. "Hey Riddler!"

Edward turned to give the boy one last exasperated look. "Yes?"

"If I pay you, will you do my Lit essay for me?"

Edward ground his teeth as he heard Cash laugh. "Son," he ground out. "You could be Bruce Wayne and you wouldn't be able to afford me." And with that, he slammed the door.

"Still convinced that Eric's the murderer, Dr. Young?" Edward asked as the three walked back to where Cash had parked his car.

"I never said unequivocally that Eric was the murderer," Dr. Young said testily. "Just that he couldn't be ruled out as a suspect. I still can't rule him out."

"Well you have to admit that there's more to the Barnes murder than meets the eye," Edward pushed. "Why else would a fake detective be looking for him?"

"You think that that guy's the real murderer?" Cash asked.

"I don't think so Cash, I know so."

"I still want to know what exactly Eric was up to that kept him out late," Dr. Young said. "His father and the dean both stated he wasn't involved in any extracurricular activities and that he had no friends. Perhaps it was linked to the internship."

Edward looked at her and smiled. She looked slightly taken aback. "What?" she asked.

"It's nice to see that consorting with GCPD hasn't completely dulled your wits, Dr. Young."

Dr. Young rolled her eyes. "Was that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?"

"Take it however you'd like." Edward said. The car was now in sight. Edward quickened his pace to get to the front passenger door.

"You aren't riding shotgun Nigma," he heard Cash say. He ignored him and waited for Cash to unlock the car. Once he heard the door locks unlock, he opened the door and gestured to Dr. Young. "After you."

Dr. Young looked at him, surprised. "That's really not necessary Edward."

Edward shrugged. "Just being polite." She looked at him for a moment, then got into the car. He shut the door and looked up to see Cash giving him a suspicious look. "What?" he asked. Cash said nothing, instead getting into the driver's seat. Edward clambered into the back seat before Cash could leave him behind in the parking lot.

When they got back to GCPD, an unpleasant surprise was waiting for Edward. While he, Dr. Young and Cash were out speaking with Eric's pothead roomate, Gordon had called Thomas Brewer. Brewer was in Gordon's office now and the shouting could be heard from the bullpen. The three of them waited out there, Dr. Young and Cash doing their best to ignore it while Edward played around with Eric's laptop.

"Should you be on that?" Cash asked him.

"Well, what else am I going to do?" Edward asked him peevishly. "Put myself in the middle of that?" He gestured to the commissioner's office, where the argument was still in full swing. Edward turned his attention back to the computer. "This is a much better use of my time."

Everyone in the bullpen looked up as Gordon's door burst open. A middle aged man in a smart suit stomped out, slamming the door behind him. His expression was thunderous as his beady black eyes focused on Edward. Edward stifled a curse. This was Thomas Brewer, his client. Brewer stormed past other detectives and officers and stopped in front of Nigma. "I hire you to find my son and you've got the GCPD thinking he's a murderer!"

"I did no such thing," Edward said. "It's hardly my fault that Barnes was murdered just after Eric disappeared. And for the record, I don't he did it."

"Then get out there and find him!" Brewer bellowed, spittle spraying onto the desk. Edward cringed and reached for a handkerchief. Some of the other cops in the bullpen looked at this with barely contained glee, while most ignored them, Cash included. Only Dr. Young seemed remotely bothered by Brewer's behavior. "I'm not paying you so you can bum around GCPD!"

"He was invited to consult on the Barnes case," Dr. Young interjected. "Unless you have anything to contribute to that, leave. You're being disruptive."

Any other time, Edward would be grateful for Brewer's attention to be taken away from him. This time however, as Brewer turned to focus his rage on Dr. Young, Edward felt his hackles begin to rise. "And just who in the Hell are you!?" He asked her.

"I'm Dr. Penelope Young. I'm a consulting psychiatrist for the GCPD and I'm working with Mr. Nigma on your son's case-"

"Working with him?" Brewer interrupted. "I'm not paying Nigma to play grab ass with some shrink-"

Edward brought his fist down on the desk, hard enough to grab both Brewer's and the other officers' attention. He drew himself up to his full height and stared down Brewer. This display seemed enough to remind the man who precisely he was dealing with, as his expression turned from anger to fear. Dr. Young seemed surprised by it as well, looking at Edward with slightly wide eyes.

"I understand that you're going through a trying time Mr. Brewer," Edward said in a clipped tone. "And that's why I'm willing to to grant you a little leeway, but I think you owe Dr. Young an apology."

Brewer stammered an incoherent apology to Dr. Young, before high-talking it towards the front door. Edward settled down into his chair, cognizant of the fact that the other officers had their eyes fixed on him. He ignored them, focusing instead on the laptop in front of him, just now powering on.

"You need me to go get the Commissioner Doc?" he heard Cash ask.

"No. Just tell him what we found out at the college." Edward heard Cash walk towards Gordon's office. Within a minute, the bullpen returned to its usual hum. Edward also heard Dr. Young take the empty seat next to him. He didn't look up at her. Finally, he heard her speak.

"That really wasn't necessary."

Edward shrugged. "Purely for my benefit, I assure you. Brewer's a man who needs to be taken down a peg or two."

Dr. Young didn't say anything in response. He could feel her eyes bearing into him. What was she looking for? Would she find it? Edward didn't have much time to ponder on it as a lockscreen came up on the laptop.

"Password protected?" he heard Dr. Young ask.

"Not surprising," Edward answered. "Nothing I can't get past." He entered a few commands on the keyboard. The lockscreen didn't change. "Hmm. Interesting."

"What?" Dr. Young asked.

"It seems Eric has a talent for encryption."

"Can you crack it?"

Edward chuckled. "Of course." He typed in a few more commands. It was only a matter of moments before the lockscreen was cracked and Edward had access. "And there we are."

From the corner of his eye, he saw Dr. Young pull out a pen and notebook from the desk drawer. "What are you going to be looking through? His emails?"

"Among other things. That wasn't a basic encryption. Clearly, he has something that he doesn't want anyone to find."

Edward clicked on his internet icon and began looking through his browser history. "He wasn't taking enough care to hide it. Political chat rooms, news websites..." He raised an eyebrow. "Pornography. Charming." He looked through the news articles Eric had bookmarked and rubbed his chin in thought. "Lots of articles about Mayor Hill. Some of them go back to the 90's."

"Barnes was a longtime supporter of Hill's," Dr. Young mused. "Perhaps it's related to his internship."

"Perhaps," Edward admitted. He turned his attention to Eric's emails. Most of them were routine. Emails to his professors, Barnes and the like. Nothing incriminating here. "I don't think we're getting the whole picture here. I'm going to install a key logger. That way I'll be able to find anything he might have done anonymously-"

Edward was interrupted in his thoughts by a loud guffaw. He turned to see a pair of detectives at their desk. One was standing up, clutching his belly and laughing uproariously at something his colleague had said. Edward rolled his eyes. "Well, that's obnoxious. As I was saying-" his voice cut off when he looked back to Dr. Young. Her face had turned pale and she was clutching her pen tight. When Edward took a closer look, he realized that her hand was trembling. Edward didn't need to be a genius to realize what must be going through her head. "Dr. Young?" he asked, almost gently.

Dr. Young looked up at him with a start, her eyes wide. "What?"

Edward paused for a moment, wondering what he should say. He didn't think she'd respond well to pity. She seemed too prideful for that. "Do you want to take a break?"

She shook her head quickly. "Absolutely not. What exactly did you think you'll find?"

Edward wasn't as privy to human behavior as Jonathan and Dr. Young were, but he'd picked up enough from his years at Arkham to know when not to push it. "Well, the very fact that Eric had his computer encrypted suggests that he's hiding some thing." The computer beeped as the installation successfully completed. Edward leaned in, trying not to be too excited. "And now, we'll find out what."

He logged back onto the computer and sure enough, the keylogger showed Eric's activities. He was clearly more involved in extracurricular activities than either the dean or his father believed. In addition to being in radical chat rooms, he was also in regular email communication with someone affiliated with an anarchist collective. "So that's what he's been doing," Edward said. He clicked on an email.

"What does it say?" Dr. Young asked. Edward tilted the screen so that she could get a look for herself. She skimmed it, making notes. "He's been reporting to this person about his activities at Barnes' firm," she said. She pointed to the screen. "He's attached something to this email."

Edward clicked on the attachment. It was a photocopied case file, dating back from 1989. "It's some kind of settlement that Hill was involved with when he was at the firm. He wasn't the attorney though. He was the target of the suit." The encryption, the interest in radical politics, the secret email account...This was beginning to jog Edward's memory.

Dr. Young sighed. "Eric was taking files from the firm and sending them to this person. Why? Was this some kind of extortion scheme? Barnes might have found out and then Eric killed him to keep it quiet."

"Then who was the person looking for Eric yesterday?" Edward asked. "In my experience, extortionists don't kill. There's no money that way."

"Then what's going on?"

Edward leaned back in his chair. He didn't have the answer, but he knew who probably did. "I'm going to have to talk to Lonnie."


	5. The Unlikely Partnership, pt 5

"Lonnie?" Dr. Young repeated. "Who's Lonnie?

Edward sat up a little straighter. He'd nearly forgotten she was there. He paused slightly before he answered her. Lonnie Machin, aka Anarky, had never been a patient at Arkham Asylum, as far as Edward remembered, so it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that she'd never heard his actual name. "An old associate of mine." Not the complete truth, but not a lie either.

"An old associate?" Dr. Young's brow furrowed as she questioned him further. "An old criminal associate of yours Edward?"

Damn. "Do I have any other kind Dr. Young?"

Dr. Young ignored the, Edward had to concede, feeble attempt at a joke and pressed further "Why exactly do we need to talk to this Lonnie? Are they involved somehow?"

We? Edward raised an eyebrow at her. "Lonnie is very involved in the sort of crowd that Eric Brewer's been running around with, yes." He lowered his voice and leaned in slightly closer to her to make sure the next part couldn't be overheard by any of the other officers in the room. "And there's no 'we' here Dr. I'll be speaking with him on my own."

Dr. Young's eyes widened slightly, then narrowed. "Edward," she said. "We're supposed to be investigating this together. If you have a lead, you need to share it with me-" She paused. "Wait...Lonnie? As in Lonnie Machin?"

Edward stifled a curse. "You've heard of him, I take it."

"Those files in my office aren't just for decoration Edward." Dr. Young said archly.

"Well then, if you know who he is, you know why you can't accompany me." He looked back up to meet Dr. Young's gaze. She clearly looked displeased.

"Edward," she started again. "You can't go meet him by yourself."

"Can't?" Edward repeated. "My dear doctor," he darkly chuckled. "I don't recall needing your permission to do anything."

"You do remember what happened the last time you saw a Gotham rogue, don't you?"

Edward scowled as he leaned down to pick up his cane. "Contrary to what many people believe Dr. Young, I am more than capable of learning from my mistakes," he said. "I can handle Machin." He got up out of his chair and brushed off his coat. He turned and gave Dr. Young a short bow. "Adieu madam. I'll have the information I need shortly." He gave a twirl of his cane as he walked towards the front door of GCPD. No doubt the officers would be glad to see the back of him, he thought as he felt the glares follow him. He also could hear footsteps following him as he stepped through the front doors. He paused, took a quick breath and turned to see Dr. Young standing behind him. Her face was a mix between anger and, more annoying to Edward, concern. Concern for who exactly, Dr. Young?

"Edward," she hissed at him. "You said that you were willing to work together on this case."

"And I still am," Edward interjected, now deeply regretting he hadn't drove himself to GCPD. "Consider this from my point of view: I'm about to meet with a man who has dedicated his life to tearing down corrupt figures and institutions in Gotham. You," he emphasized pointing the top of his cane at her, "are a perfect representation of two of those institutions: GCPD and Arkham. There is no scenario where Machin voluntarily cooperates with you. I have to do this alone."

"And he'll cooperate with you?" she challenged him. "The man who very publicly worked with Quincy Sharp? This isn't the time or place to be territorial Edward. At the very least, tell Gordon what your plan is-"

"Tell Gordon?" Edward interrupted. "And have him browbeat me into bringing along officers or wearing a wire? The only reason that my former 'colleagues' have left me alone so far is because I'm an independent agent. If I lead the police straight to one of them, it's open season on me."

"And you don't think you're risking your life going alone? Edward, I can't let you put yourself in danger like that!"

That was concern he heard in her voice. Resentment coiled in his gut. Where was this concern when she'd been a doctor at Arkham performing experiments on Bane? Where was this concern a year ago, when he had no memories and no money and had slept in a homeless shelter until Oswald had taken him in? Edward all too clearly saw her game now. He chuckled again. "No, I suppose you can't." He have her an almost pitying look. "It was your idea to have me collaborate with GCPD after all. I can't imagine it would reflect very well on you if I got killed during this collaboration, now would it? Well, no need to worry. I release you of any liability. Your reputation won't be sullied, any more than it already is."

Dr. Young's face flushed slightly, then resumed its cold expression. "Is that what you think this is about? My reputation? I lied to Hugo Strange to keep you from being locked back up in Arkham. I lied to Gordon about what happened during the Bierko case. Do you really think I give a damn about my reputation?"

Edward chuckled again. There was a part of him that deep down, knew he was being needlessly petty and borderline cruel to her, but he couldn't stop. He wouldn't let her get his hopes up."Let's not pretend you didn't have your own motives for doing that. Did you think that if you could 'get me to open up to you' that you could save me from myself? That you could redeem yourself for what happened at Arkham? I was getting along quite well before I crossed paths with you, Dr. Young and I'm not interested in in 'being saved.' What was it you said back in May? Oh yes," Edward paused a glared at her. "Don't insult me by pretending that you care about me."

Dr. Young's eyes flashed and she stepped forward. For a brief moment, Edward thought she'd slap him, but she stopped as soon as she was in his space, looking straight up at him. For a brief, terrible moment, Edward saw Jonathan in those ice blue eyes of hers. "You want to know what my motives were?" she seethed. "I didn't do it because I cared about you personally. I didn't do it because I felt that I owed you for saving my life. I did it because what Hugo Strange was doing was wrong. Because I was wrong." She gestured to the building behind them and to a few officers gawking at them from inside. "Every person in that building thinks that you're gaming them. That your reform isn't legitimate. I used to believe that too. But I was wrong Edward. I know that this isn't a game for you. I've even caught glimpses of decency in you. You might still be the most arrogant, aggravating man I've ever known, but you don't deserve to have your new life sabotaged. Not by me. Not by GCPD. And not by Hugo Strange. You said you wanted to trust me. Why can't you?"

Edward stood still, processing every word she said, quickly cataloging every possible motivation she had for this. She was almost as arrogant as he was, stubborn, prideful, blunt to the point of near callousness, emotionally reserved. For her to have said all of this to him, with all of GCPD to hear her...Edward came to one, horrible conclusion. She meant it. No. So had Selina, and she'd betrayed him. So had Query and Echo, and they'd left him. So had Jonathan and he was-But still. How long had he wanted to hear this from someone, from anyone in Arkham or GCPD? Even if she was trying to game him...it was nice to hear. He realized that she was still staring at him, waiting for a response. Edward gulped, then spoke. "Trust is a two way street, Dr. Young." She opened her mouth to retort, but Edward raised his hand. "You're asking quite a bit from me, you realize? I'm sure you know by now that I don't exactly have a great track record with trusting other people. I can't trust someone who isn't willing to trust me." Dr. Young's expression softened somewhat. "I'm going to Machin. Alone. I'll get what I-what we need from him and then I'll come back here. You need to trust me to do that."

Dr. Young clearly wasn't happy with this, but she said nothing. Edward turned to leave the parking lot and find a cab, when he heard her speak softly "You know I'm going to have to tell Gordon about this."

Edward shrugged. "That's your prerogative." And with that, he walked off, not looking back at the GCPD or her.

Night had fallen by the time Edward got back to his office. He half-expected there to be GCPD officers there waiting for him, but the building was empty has he entered. He didn't have time to dwell on that fact though, as he sat at his desk and booted up his laptop. Once he'd opened his email, he typed out a message to the address he'd seen on Eric Brewer's laptop. **Lonnie. I know about Eric Brewer. We need to meet. E. Nigma**. While he waited for a reply, he began to drum his fingers on his desk. After that display at GCPD, Lonnie had better humor him by responding. He couldn't, wouldn't go back empty handed. He didn't think he'd be able to face her. The drumming of his fingers grew faster as he became more impatient. "Come on Lonnie," he seethed. "Where are you?" After ten minutes that felt more like an hour, a response appeared in his inbox. **Solomon Wayne Courthouse. One hour. Come alone.**

Edward smirked. "Perfect." He instantly got out of his chair and went to the hat stand to grab his cane when he hesitated. If Lonnie was setting him up, there could be trouble. He crossed the room and opened the closet door. He kept a few spare suits and other necessities here when he needed to spend the night. Pushing aside the clothes, he found what he was looking for. Most of his old Riddler gear had been confiscated while he was in his coma, but he'd managed to hide away three of his old trick canes. He grabbed the one on the far left hook. It was almost identical to his standard cane that he used most frequently, save for the button at the handle. He'd only have one shot, but the element of surprise had gotten him through before. He shut the door and walked out of his office. When he got to his car, he hesitated again. He might not be a bad idea to send a message-no. He couldn't risk GCPD showing up and torpedoing his best chance at finding Eric Brewer and William Barnes' killer. He turned the keys in the ignition and drove towards North Gotham.

Solomon Wayne Courthouse, like most buildings in Gotham, had seen better days. It was one of the oldest buildings still standing in Gotham and had served as the major courthouse for well over a century. White collar criminals and common thugs alike and faced trial here, until the day Harvey Dent got a face full of acid and any hope for the Gotham justice system died along with his sanity. Most trials were conducted in more secure locations closer to the city center now and the courthouse served more as an unofficial museum than anything else. Unofficial museum and base of operations for the assorted members of Gotham's Rogues gallery. Edward himself had never used it. Too open and unprotected for his liking. Still, he thought as he briskly walked up the steps, he could see why someone like Anarky might find it appealing. After being satisfied that no one had followed him, Edward lightly tapped on the front door.

"Anyone home?" he called out. When there was no response, Edward pulled on the door knob. The door opened and Edward walked in. The old courthouse was completely silent as he strolled in, hearing only the sound of his own spats. Alone in an old courthouse waiting to meet with a Rogue that he couldn't quite remember having history with. Not the most ridiculous thing he'd ever done. "Lonnie?" he called out again. "Are you here?"

There was nothing but silence in the old courthouse. Edward kept a tight grip on his cane as he considered the possibility that Dr. Young had been right. "I don't have all night Lonnie!" he said.

"Neither do I."

Edward looked up in the direction of the voice and saw Anarky standing at the top of the stairs leading up to the second floor. He was wearing a white full face mask, making him look like a department store mannequin come to life. Edward raised an eyebrow. "A bit dramatic for a one on one meeting, don't you think?"

"Says the man who came dressed like a leprechaun in a cheap hat."

"Hurtful! And this hat didn't come cheap I'll have you know. But I digress." Edward leaned back, sizing the other man up. None of Manchin's followers were in sight, which lowered the chances of this being an ambush. Edward kept a steady grip on the top of his cane just the same. "Let's cut to the chase: I know Eric Brewer was an informant of yours. I saw the files he sent you on his laptop computer. I need to speak with him."

"Why?" Anarky asked him. "So you can drag him back to his fascist father? Eric is where he belongs. With his brothers and sisters, working to bring down the pigs who've been feasting at the expense of every decent person in this city!"

All ten or so of them, Edward thought acerbically. He held up his hand before Anarky could continue on. "That's very admirable Lonnie, but time is of the essence here-"

"Don't you dare condescend to me you sell-out!" Anarky yelled, pointing his finger at him.

Edward raised his hands, placatingly. "I'm doing no such thing. Listen Lonnie, William Barnes, the man Eric was stealing files from, is dead."

Anarky calmed somewhat, at least Edward thought he did. It was impossible to see his facial expressions behind that mask of his, a fact that put Edward on edge. "I know. Eric didn't do it."

Finally, they were getting somewhere. "Because Eric told you himself? And you believe him?"

Anarky nodded. "Eric wouldn't lie."

"Forgive me if I don't take your word for it Lonnie," Edward drawled. Anarky said nothing, still standing at the foot of the stairs. Edward let out an impatient sigh. "Lonnie, to be perfectly blunt. I couldn't care less what you had Eric or your other informants doing. If you want to bring down the corrupt of Gotham and bring about an anarchist utopia that's your own business. But right now, GCPD has Eric as the only suspect in Barnes' murder. And that's not all. I was at Eric's dorm room earlier today. His room mate told me that there was a man looking for him. I believe that this man is Barnes' real killer. And I also believe that Eric knows who he is. That's why he ran, isn't it?"

Edward took Anarky's silence as confirmation. He was unique among the Rogues in that he genuinely cared about the safety of the people in his employ. If this didn't work to get him to cooperate, Edward was out of ideas. Finally, Anarky spoke. "What do you want, Nigma?"

"I want to meet with Eric. I need to know what happened at Barnes' home. And I want to know what exactly it was that he was digging up on Barnes and Hill."

"What can you give us in return?"

Edward's lips quirked up slightly. This he could deal with. "Aside from clearing your informant's name? I might be persuaded to assist you in better covering your tracks. Even the morons at GCPD could have cracked that encryption Eric had on his computer."

"Aren't you serving GCPD's agenda now?"

Edward chuckled. "Lonnie, I'm serving the same agenda I always have: my own. Now, do we have a deal?"

Anarky stared dead on at Edward. He couldn't deny it was a bit unsettling. "If you betray us-"

Edward waved a hand dismissively. "My life will be forfeit, blah blah blah. So?"

Anarky said nothing, instead continuing to size Edward up. Finally, he walked down the stairs and up to Edward. Perhaps it was his own faulty memory, but Edward didn't remember Anarky being so short. "Listen to what I have to say first," he said. "Then I'll decide if you can see Eric."

Edward let out a long-suffering sigh. "Fine. Just spare me the Anarchist preaching."

Anarky ignore the dig and began. "Eric joined us about six months ago. He's been helping us gather information on his Gestapo father and his disgusting friends."

"And the internship?" Edward inquired. "Was stealing the files from Barnes' firm Eric's idea or yours?"

"Eric's," Anarky answered. "Barnes completely trusted him. Taking the files was as easy as breaking out of Arkham Asylum."

"I can imagine," Edward said. "I saw the files on Hill that he sent you. Was it standard information gathering, or was Eric looking for something specific about our illustrious mayor?"

Anarky paused to look at him. "You really don't know?"

Edward was starting to become impatient. "It's common knowledge that Hill's on the take."

"There's more," Anarky said. "15 years ago, when Hill was working at Barnes' firm, he was sued by the wife of a man he defended."

That must have been the settlement file he saw in Eric's emails. "Go on."

"She alleged that in exchange for defending her husband, he demanded favors from her. Hill and Barnes settled with her to avoid the scandal going public."

Edward rubbed his chin in thought. He wasn't surprised by this. He remembered, vaguely, hearing rumors of Hill and two girls at the Gotham Royal back in the day. "I take it that this wasn't the only time Hill had this particular problem."

Anarky shook his head. "Eric was able to find other settlement files in Barnes' firm."

"Why did Barnes keep them? Leverage to hold over Hill?"

"That's what we think, yeah. We were going to make this public next week at Hill's next city council meeting. He's a monster who exploited people at their most vulnerable and he's been elected mayor for it. No more."

"But something went wrong," Edward interjected. "Eric quit the internship and withdrew his money. Did Barnes catch on to what he was doing?"

"I'm not sure. Eric called me the other night and begged me to help him get out of Gotham. He said he saw Barnes die. He hung up before I could get anything else out of him."

"Do you know where he is now?"

"No. He might try to call me again though." Anarky reached into his pocket and Edward tensed. He relaxed somewhat when Anarky pulled out a USB drive. "This is everything that Eric sent to me, as well as what else we've uncovered on Hill. I'll give it to you, on one condition."

Edward narrowed his eyes. "And what would that be?"

"Take down Hill. You could have done so at any point in the last 15 years, but you cared more about leaving puzzles for Batman. Consider this your chance at redemption."

"Go to Hell Machin!" Edward seethed. "If Gotham's citizens were stupid enough to keep electing Hill, that's not my problem!"

Anarky was unmoved by Edward's display. "Do you want this or not?"

Edward ground his teeth, then held out his hand. Why not? He'd never liked Hill anyway. Anarky placed the USB drive in it. Edward placed in in his pocket. "By the way," he said, almost as an afterthought. "You realize that if Hill's career goes down after this that that all but guarantees Quincy Sharp's election, don't you?"

"Sharp will be exposed soon enough," Anarky said nonchalantly. "Hill's not the only one we have in our sights."

This piqued Edward's interest. "You have informers in Sharp's circle?" Edward had to hand it to the boy. Even he hadn't been able to get that far. Yet. "Lonnie," he said with a smirk, "We may be able to work together yet. And Eric?"

"If he calls me, I'll tell him you want to talk to him."

"That's it?" Edward asked.

"I'm not handing him over to you so you can take him back to his father or the GCPD. If Eric wants to talk with you, that's his choice to make." Lonnie turned to head back up the stairs. "I've got things to do Nigma. You can see yourself out."

Edward gave him a half-hearted wave. "Always a pleasure Lonnie."

A thought occurred to Edward when he got back into his car. Now that he had the hard evidence from Machin about Eric's activities, what need did he have really to go back to GCPD. They could figure out the rest from Eric's computer for themselves, not to mention whatever information Bullock and Montoya had learned from Barnes' office. They'd made it perfectly clear to him that they didn't want him around. Why should he bother helping them find Eric when he was more than capable of doing that himself? All he needed to do wait for Machin to contact him or get ahold of his own informants and flush him out. He didn't need GCPD for that. Edward put the car in drive and started to head back towards his office. No one in GCPD had given him any incentive to continue working with them, let alone trust them-

 _You said you wanted to trust me. Why can't you?_

Edward slowed and turned left, heading back towards GCPD. "I must be losing my mind," he murmured.


	6. The Unlikely Partnership, pt 6

Dr. Young watched Edward as he left, her heart sinking with each step he took away from GCPD. She'd pushed him too far. She'd expected too much. Edward's trust issues ran deep, far deeper than she had time to address in this case and what exactly did she expect? That he'd be so grateful to her that he'd confide in a woman he barely knew? She shook her head and looked down at her feet. Just like with the Joker. She'd overestimated her abilities again and now things had gotten out of her control. Concern turned into anger as she clenched her fist. After everything that had happened to him, was he really so arrogant that he thought he was the only one who could investigate-Penelope stopped herself. Yes. Yes he was.

"Doc?"

Penelope nearly leapt out her skin when she heard the voice. She looked behind her and saw Aaron standing in front of the door, a questioning look on his face.

"One of the uniforms told me that you and Nigma were getting into it out here. You OK?"

Penelope nodded, then took a breath to collect herself. "I'm fine, Aaron."

Aaron nodded, then looked around. "Speaking of Nigma, where is the jolly green asshat?"

Penelope bit her lip. "He's gone. We found a lead on Eric Brewer's computer and he just left. I tried to stop him but he wouldn't listen to me."

Aaron sighed. "Why am I not surprised? Well, Bullock and Montoya are back from Barnes' office. The Commissioner wants us to go over what they found out."

Penelope sighed and turned to head back into GCPD to inform the Commissioner of what had occurred, ignoring the stares of the officers who had witnessed her exchange with Edward. This was going to be a very awkward conversation.

Gordon sat at his desk with his hands folded in front of him while Penelope recounted what she and Edward had uncovered that day, from going to the college, to what they on Eric's computer and ending with his decision to track down Lonnie Machin on his own. Bullock and Montoya stood by his desk, Montoya with a guarded expression on her face, Bullock with a thunderous one. When she finished, Gordon pinched his brow and sighed.

"I'll send the laptop to our computer guys to confirm what you and Nigma found. In the meantime, I don't want any of this to leave this office. Understood?"

Penelope nodded. "Of course." She hesitated, but curiosity got the better of her. "Commissioner, you've worked with Hill for years. Did you ever hear anything about this?"

Gordon raised an eyebrow. "Hill's never been the cleanest person, but something like this? No." He nodded his head at Bullock and Montoya. "What did you find out at Barnes' firm?"

"According to Barnes' receptionist, Eric Brewer was called into Barnes' office two days before Barnes' murder. She didn't hear what they spoke about, but she said that Brewer looked distraught when he left. He never came back to the office after that. Barnes left with a box of files that night."

"It sounds like Barnes might have found out what Eric was up to." Penelope mused. That gave Eric excellent motive to kill Barnes, but the timing wasn't adding up. If Barnes had known about the theft and had confronted him, why the time gap before the murder? And why hadn't he done anything about it?

"Anything else?" Gordon asked.

"Yeah," Bullock added. "Day after that, she said some guy in a suit came by the office to talk to Barnes. Said they had an argument in the office and Barnes nearly called security to get the guy to leave. Before he left though, he told Barnes that he had 'an arrangement to honor'. She didn't know what the argument was about exactly, but that she thought she heard Brewer's name mentioned."

A man in a suit...Eric's roommate had mentioned a man in a suit had come by looking for him. "What did this man look like?"

"White, clean shaven, about 5'10," Bullock said. "Why?"

"Oh shit," Penelope heard Aaron say. "You think that Nigma's right? That they guy who was at Brewer's dorm room is the killer?"

Penelope felt all eyes in the room on her and wanted to sink into her seat. "It's...a possibility now. We need to actually find out who he is before we come to any conclusions."

Bullock let out a huff. "Why don't we just ask the genius what he thinks? Oh wait. We can't. Why's that Doc?"

Penelope felt her face flush. "That wasn't my doing, Detective. Nigma left of his own accord."

"You sure didn't do a lot to stop him," he accusingly. From what we heard, you just let him stroll right out of here."

Penelope glared at the detective. "And just what was I supposed to do Bullock?" She asked. "Detain him? On what grounds?"

"Being a pain in the ass for starters. Or how about conspiring with Anarky?"

"That's not what's happening," she said. "Machin and Nigma don't have any prior history of collaborating and Nigma said he'd come back-"

Bullock snorted. "And you believed him? Just like you believed Joker when he told you he wanted to be cured?"

Penelope's jaw dropped in outrage, but before she could say a word in her defense, Gordon had got up out of his seat. "That's enough Bullock!" he shouted at the man. He sat back down and looked at her reassuringly. "Nigma will do what Nigma will do," he said in a softer tone. "I never expected that you'd be able to keep him under control. That's too much to ask of anyone."

Penelope bristled slightly. She didn't need Gordon to defend her. "I understand that," she said. "And I am well aware how difficult Nigma is to interact with. But quite frankly, no one in this room is helping the situation by assuming the worst of him."

A silence filled the room. "Excuse me?" Bullock asked. "Are you actually defending the freak?"

"No," Penelope said. "After everything that he's done, I can't expect you to like him, or want to work with him. But treating him as if he's one step away from relapsing doesn't help anyone. It's only going to put him on the defensive and make him more likely to fall back into his old habits!"

"Good." Bullock said.

Penelope looked at him. "Why is that good?"

Bullock set his jaw and gave her a look. "You say you know what he was like Doc, but you don't. You only saw him when he was at Arkham. You never saw him as the Riddler." Bullock took a breath, then continued. "Five years ago, we got called to a scene of one of his heists. He left some kind of puzzle box for us to crack open. There was this rookie, a kid named Jamie Callahan, who volunteered to solve it. He was a bright kid, just three months out of the Academy. He'd have made Detective by now. Anyway, he gets about halfway through the thing when one part of the box opens up. Kid stuck his arm into it." Bullock clenched his fist and paused for a moment to collect himself. "Turned out Nigma fashioned it as some kind of guillotine thing. It took off Callahan's arm at the elbow. Kid almost died at the scene from blood loss. You know what Nigma said when we told him what happened? He said, and I quote: 'Well, that's what happens when you stick your hands in where they don't belong. That box was for Batman.' Just like that, this kid lost his job and was on permanent disability and all he cared about was his stupid game with Batman." Bullock glared hard at her. "So tell me Doc: Why shouldn't Nigma rot in Arkham? Why does he deserve a second chance?"

Penelope took a long moment to collect her thoughts, but nothing came to her. From the looks on Montoya's and Aaron's faces, they agreed with Bullock. Not even six months ago, Penelope had agreed with Bullock too. When and why exactly had she changed her mind? Had she really? Or was Edward right? Was she only using him for her own sake? No. She'd seen for herself there was an emotional depth to Edward that very few people knew even existed, let alone seen. She had to believe in that. Before she could say anything, Gordon cleared his throat.

"It's not up to any of us to decide what Nigma deserves," he said quietly. "All we can do is deal with the situation as is. We need to focus back on the case. Renee, I want you to call the receptionist and Brewer's roommate in to talk with a sketch artist. We need to nail down who exactly was talking to Barnes the day he died."

"What about Nigma?" Penelope asked.

Gordon shrugged. "If he comes back, great. if he doesn't, we need to figure out how to contain whatever he might do."

"Really Commissioner?" A smug voice sounded from the door. "Do you have so little faith in me?"

Penelope spun her head around fast. There, leaning against the open door frame, was Edward Nigma. How long had he been there? How much had he overheard? He tipped his hat and flashed a cocky grin. "Oh, don't look so surprised Dr. Young. I did tell you I'd be back."

Gordon was up in an instant. "God Dammit Nigma! Shut the door!" he shouted. "How long have you been there eavesdropping!?"

Edward shrugged. "Is it really eavesdropping if I'm the topic of conversation? But I digress." He entered the room fully and shut the door behind him. He walked up to where Dr. Young was sitting in front of Gordon's desk, ignoring the glares shot his way by Bullock and Montoya. "I take it you've heard about what Dr. Young and I discovered?"

"I have," Gordon said. "I also heard about your jackass stunt with Machin! What the Hell were you thinking Nigma?"

Edward rolled his eyes. "I was thinking that I would uncover the best clue to Brewer's whereabouts, but your concern is touching, truly."

Penelope's relief that Edward had returned in one piece turned to curiosity. "What did he tell you?"

Edward gave her an indulgent smile and reached into his pocket. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bullock and Montoya tense. Edward pulled what looked like a USB out of his coat pocket and held his hand out to her. "It seems that that unfortunate business we found on the boy's computer wasn't the only occurrence. According to Machin, this USB has a record of all Hill's indiscretions."

Penelope hesitated for a moment, then took the USB out of Edward's hand, then placed it on Gordon's desk. "What about Eric Brewer?"

"According to Machin, Brewer says he didn't commit the murder, but that he saw who did."

"Detectives Bullock and Montoya said that Barnes' receptionist saw the same person Eric's roommate did." Penelope interjected.

Edward's smile became even more smug, if such a thing was possible. "Well then," he said. "It seems that once again, I was right. Eric brewer's not our killer."

Gordon narrowed his eyes. "Do you believe Machin?"

"Lonnie's an earnest type. He's not likely to lie."

"So where is Brewer?" Bullock asked, patience running thin.

"That Machin doesn't know," Edward answered. "He did tell me that he might be in contact though."

"So we're waiting to hear from Anarky?" Montoya questioned. "How do we know he won't just sneak Brewer out of the city?"

Edward chuckled a bit. "Oh, Lonnie knows better than to double cross me."

Aaron rolled his eyes. "That's reassuring."

Edward was about to retort, when the sound of a ringing phone cut him off. The other occupants of the room realized that the sound was coming from Edward's own person. Edward reached into his vest pocket and pulled out his phone. He stifled a cursed when he looked at the screen.

"Machin?" Penelope asked.

Edward nodded, then gave her a pointed look. "Keep your voices down. All of you. I'll put him on speaker." Edward pressed a series of buttons on his phone, then lay it out on Gordon's desk. "Lonnie!" he said jovially. "That didn't take long."

"Eric's been in touch," a younger voice sounded. "He's willing to talk."

Edward's face lit up. "Lonnie, you are a Godsend. When and where?"

"Not to you."

Penelope watched as Edward's face fell. "Come again?"

"Eric knows that his father hired you to look for him. He won't speak to you. No cops either."

Edward pinched the bridge of his nose and sucked in a quick breath. "You realize Lonnie," he said, "That that doesn't leave me with a lot of options."

"That's not my problem," Machin answered. "Don't you know anyone trustworthy?"

"Lonnie, I am a reformed super criminal with an enemy list that starts in Gotham and ends somewhere in the Midwest. Do you think I know anyone trustworthy?" He snapped. Edward looked up from the phone and for a moment, made eye contact with Penelope. His eyes lit up, as if he'd had an epiphany. "Lonnie," he asked in a smoother tone. "Would Eric be willing to talk to a doctor?"

Penelope realized in an instant what Edward intended to do. Judging from the dark looks on the others faces, they did too. There was a brief pause before Machin responded. "What kind of doctor?"

"A psychiatrist," Edward answered. "I know from experience that she's trustworthy."

There was another long pause. "Gotham Cathedral. One hour. Eric will talk to her and her alone. If any cops show up, he'll take off and you'll never find him. Agreed?"

"One condition," Edward stated. "I won't approach Eric, but I will accompany the doctor. If Eric steps out of line, I will dispatch him."

"Done," Machin answered. "And tell the GCPD to not bother trying to trace this number. We'll be long gone by the time those pigs catch up to us." A click sounded and the line went dead.

Gordon looked furious at Edward. "Did you just volunteer a civilian to meet with a murder suspect by herself, without her consent?" he ground out.

Edward rolled his eyes. "No Commissioner. I volunteered to accompany Dr. Young while she meets with a witness to a murder. There's a slight difference."

Gordon pounded his fist on his desk. "Absolutely not Nigma! If you want to risk your own life pulling some attention seeking stunt, that's your decision! You do not have the right to risk the life of one of my personnel!"

"You heard Machin," Edward stated. "This is the best way we have to find out what Eric knows. And she won't be in any danger."

"What?" Aaron scoffed. "You're going to protect her? Because you're such a stand-up guy?"

"Excuse me," Penelope interrupted. "It seems to me that this is my choice to make. And I'm going to do it."

Everyone in the room looked at her, expressions ranging from shock, to anger, and in Edward's case, amusement.

"You don't have to do this Dr. Young," Montoya said. "I can go as you. He won't know the difference."

Penelope shook her head. "If Machin's right and Eric did see Barnes' murder, he's going to be distraught. He needs to be able to completely trust whoever he speaks to. If we trick him, he'll shut down. I might be the best person here to get him to open up." She looked at Gordon. "I can do this."

Gordon sighed. "I don't like this one bit," he said. "I'm sending Cash along with you, to keep an eye on you."

"I can find a way to watch the church without being seen," Cash affirmed. He then turned to glare at Edward. "And keep an eye on you, Nigma. You try anything funny and I'll send you back to Arkham myself. Got it?"

Edward let out a dramatic sigh. "Of course."

"Bullock and I will go bring in the witnesses," Montoya said. "Call us if you need anything."

Gordon gave them a nod and Bullock and Montoya left the room. Edward turned to Dr. Young expectantly. "Shall we be off?"

Penelope nodded, then got up to leave the room. Aaron followed her. As they exited, Aaron leaned in close to whisper in her ear. "Nigma said he knew from experience that you were trustworthy. What did he mean by that?"

Penelope took a quick look behind them. Gordon had called Edward back and, judging by the expression on their faces, was continuing to read him the riot act. Once she was certain she wouldn't be overheard, she whispered back to Aaron, "I'll tell you later." Aaron didn't look pleased by this explanation. "I promise." she reassured him.

Aaron grunted. "Sure Doc. Just keep your eyes open around him. He might not be a crook anymore but I trust him about as much as I trust Croc. I'm going to get my car and head over to the cathedral. I'll see you there."

Penelope nodded, relieved that Aaron dropped the subject for now. As he left, Edward approached her, looking unreasonably smug. "Well, that was pleasant. Now, let's go get our witness."

Penelope kept her composure as they exited the building and went into the parking lot. As soon as they entered her car however Penelope rounded on him. "What in the Hell were you thinking Edward!?" she hissed. "Didn't it occur to you to ask me first before you volunteered me for this?"

Edward looked taken aback by this. "This coming from the woman who not three hours ago was willing to come with me to meet a notorious criminal," he sassed. "Do you want to partner with me or not? I do wish you'd make up your mind."

"And not three hours ago, you refused to even consider letting me come along. What changed your mind?"

Edward said nothing at first. "You said you wanted me to trust you," he finally answered sullenly. "This is me trusting you. Satisfied?"

Penelope looked surprised. Had she done it? Would Edward be willing to tell her about Strange now? Penelope out that out of her mind for now. First thing was first. "I will be when we talk to Eric and finally find out what's going on." she answered. She put her key in the ignition and started her car. Edward leaned back in the passenger seat and reached out to touch her radio. "Don't touch anything." she warned him.

Edward leaned his head against the window and sulked. "Were you this pleasant when you worked with Selina?"


	7. The Unlikely Partnership, pt 7

Warning: There are non-graphic mentions of rape in this chapter.

They made it to the Cathedral with half an hour to spare. The two of them waited across the street in Dr. Young's parked car, her reading over her the case notes for the fifth time and Edward watching the street. From their vantage point, Edward could see the front entrance of the decrepit old cathedral. He checked his watch. It was past 10 pm now. He sighed and impatiently drummed his fingers against the window. This had been quite a day.

"Do you think Eric Brewer will show up?"

Edward looked at Dr. Young from the corner of his eye. This had been the first time she'd spoken to him since they'd left GCPD. "He'll be here," Edward answered. "As I said back in Gordon's office, Lonnie won't double cross me."

"Because you promised him something in exchange for his cooperation."

Edward turned to face her. She looked at him expectantly, but not with any judgement. He shrugged. "Just a basic quid pro quo. Nothing that GCPD needs to worry about." Dr. Young said nothing in response and turned her attention back to the case file. "Are you having seconds thoughts about being here?"

"No," she answered in a clipped tone. "I just don't like to have my time wasted."

Edward snorted a bit. "You and me both, Dr. Young." He leaned over slightly to get a better look at what she was reading. "Are my notes about Eric that interesting Dr? That's the sixth time I've seen you look over them."

"If I'm going to be meeting with him, I need to know as much about him as I can."

Edward nodded absently. "So you're forming your battle strategy I see."

"I wouldn't phrase it quite like that Edward," she said. She sighed and closed the file. "Did Anarky mention why Eric began to work with him?"

"No," Edward answered. "He was rather tight lipped about that. He did mention though that Eric volunteered to steal the files from Barnes. What do you make of that?"

Dr. young raised an eyebrow. "If he volunteered to steal from Barnes, then he must have already had some idea of what Barnes was hiding."

Edward nodded. "Go on."

Dr. Young hesitated then opened the case file again. "Thomas Brewer, William Barnes and Mayor Hill all went to the same law school. They've been friends since. With Thomas Brewer's connections with the DA's office, he could have helped cover up what Hill's been doing all these years. And Eric grew up around this. He must have known. He might have even witnessed it first hand."

Edward grinned. "I think Dr, that that should be sufficient ammunition for you when you talk to him."

Dr. Young looked up at Edward, realization dawning. "You knew this as soon as you met with Anarky, didn't you? Why did you even ask me what I thought? You could have just told me."

Edward chuckled a bit. 76 sessions with him at Arkham and she apparently hadn't learned a thing. "I could have, but where's the fun in that?"

Dr. Young rolled her eyes. "I don't know what I expected," she muttered, closing the file and putting it back in her bag. "Is there anything else I need to know Edward?"

"About Eric Brewer? No." he said. Edward paused as he considered the woman. He'd heard her defend him to Gordon and the other detectives when he'd returned to GCPD. He remembered what she had said to him before he left to speak with Lonnie. She'd helped Selina find him when he'd been taken by Tetch. She'd given him no reason to distrust her and every reason to think she could be an ally to him. There was just one more thing he needed to know. "Why exactly do you want to know about what's going on with me and Hugo Strange?"

Dr. Young looked up at him with wide eyes. "I told you why, Edward."

"No, you told me why you interceded on my behalf with him," he corrected her. "That doesn't tell me why you want to be involved in my business. As a matter of fact, a woman in your position and with your past history with Arkham should want to be as far away from this as possible. What exactly do you gain from getting involved in this?"

Dr. Young looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Do you still think I'm trying to game you?"

"No," Edward admitted. "I'm trying to understand you."

Dr. Young tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear before she said, "If you're in some kind of feud with Hugo Strange, that's something I need to know about."

That wasn't an answer. "Why? I didn't realize that I was that important to you."

Dr. Young gave him a look. "It's not about you," she said. "Think about it Edward: if Hugo Strange feels emboldened enough to target a private citizen, what is he doing to the people he has under his power at the asylum?"

Edward hadn't actually thought of that. It was an unpleasant prospect, to say the least. "And this is a concern of yours?"

Dr. Young flushed a bit, then sighed. "When I started at Arkham Asylum, I took a vow to always put the patients' welfare before anything else." She shot him a preemptive glare. "I don't need you to tell me that I failed."

Edward held his hands up in supplication. "I wasn't going to say anything. So," he trailed off, thinking of what had passed between them at the Arkham Memorial months ago. "Slayer of regrets, old and new, sought by many, found by few. This is your answer? You think that foiling good old Dr. Strange will make up for what happened last year?"

Dr. Young sighed. "No," she said finally. "Nothing I can do will ever make up for that. But if Hugo Strange is abusing his position at Arkham, he needs to be stopped."

Edward blinked. He honestly hadn't expected that answer from her. There was one last question he had to ask her. "And if I don't tell you? What will you do then?"

"Then I'll look into him on my own." She answered without missing a beat.

Edward stared at her for a moment, then let out a huff. "Just like that? With what resources, apart from your stubbornness and over active guilt?"

"You can mock me all you want Edward," she said. "But I'm not going to let this go. I will find out what Hugo Strange is up to, with or without your help."

Edward leaned back in his seat. "You know, I think you just might." A movement from the front of the cathedral caught his attention. He gestured to Dr. Young. "I think our guest is here."

She looked up just as a figure dressed in black walked up to the front door of the Cathedral. They were wearing the same white face mask as Anarky, but this person looked shorter. From the way they froze as they saw the car, Edward knew who they had to be.

"Eric Brewer?" Dr. Young asked.

"Can't imagine who else it can be," Edward said. He took another look at Dr. Young. Her face betrayed no emotion, but her hands were tightly gripping the steering wheel. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

Dr. Young looked at him with surprise. "A little late for second thoughts, isn't it Edward?"

"Not at all," he retorted. "I'm just not in the mood to play Knight in Shining Armor if something goes awry."

Dr. Young scoffed. "I highly doubt that will happen." She took a breath, then opened her car door, leaving her bag on the seat. Just before she got out, Edward called her back.

"Stay where I can see you," he told her. "I don't think Brewer will try anything, but no need to take chances."

Dr. Young nodded. "All right. I'll be back with Eric in a bit." And with that, she shut the door and, with only minor hesitation, walked towards the figure.

Edward kept his eyes fixed on her as she stopped to greet them. "Lonnie, you had better be right about Eric Brewer not being a killer, or so help me I'll kill you myself."

* * *

Penelope tried to ignore the sound of her heart pounding as she walked up to the figure in black. As she crossed the street, she could see from the corner of her eye where Aaron's car was parked down an alley. She didn't dare acknowledge him. She couldn't risk spooking Eric by alerting him to the presence of a GCPD officer. Finally, she stopped just short of where the figure stood. Now that she was up close she could get a better look at him, as good a look as she could get with only the streetlight to illuminate. He was shorter than what she'd imagined, shorter than her even. She couldn't see his face, but she could see him trembling, slightly. It wasn't a cold night. "Eric Brewer?" she called out.

The figure nodded. "Y-yeah. I'm Eric Brewer," he stammered. "Are you the doctor?"

Penelope nodded. "Yes. My name is Dr. Penelope Young. I'm a psychiatrist."

Eric didn't respond to her right away. He looked behind her to where Edward was sitting in her car. "Is-is that the Riddler?"

Eric sounded terrified. Penelope knew he was seconds away from running and that she needed to reassure him quickly. "He's just here to observe us," she said. "He won't come anywhere near you."

"My father hired him to find me," Eric said, not seeming to hear her. "I can't go back to him, I can't-"

This was going nowhere. Penelope realized that if she had any chance of getting Eric to talk, she needed to get him out of Edward's line of sight. "Eric," she said soothingly. "Why don't we go talk inside?"

Eric stopped. "He won't follow us?"

"No," Penelope assured him. "I promise, it will just be the two of us." Edward would be furious and so would Aaron, but she could deal with them later.

Eric looked from her to the car and back. "Alright," he said. "The front door's unlocked." Penelope followed him into the cathedral, trying her best to ignore her nerves.

The interior of the cathedral was dimly lit with a few candles Penelope noticed as she shut the door behind them. Eric must have already been here before she, Edward and Aaron had even arrived. She watched Eric as he took a seat on one of the empty pews.

"Eric?" she asked him. "Would you be willing to take your mask off?"

Eric said nothing, but did as she asked, discarding the mask on the floor and running a hand down his face. Penelope took the opportunity to really look at him for the first time. He looked like, for lack of a better term, a mess. His face was red and splotchy and looked younger than his nineteen years. There were large dark circles around his hazel eyes and his gaze was troubled. Whatever he had seen in the past few days clearly had a traumatic effect on him. She stepped closer, mindful to keep a distance between them. Eric had nothing in his hands when she'd first seen him, but she couldn't be too careful. "Eric?" she asked softly. "You look troubled. Would you like to talk about it?"

Eric nodded. "I didn't mean for this to happen," he said, voice cracking. "I didn't want Uncle Bill to die."

"Uncle Bill? Do you mean William Barnes?"

Eric nodded again. Penelope paused to consider his words. Uncle Bill. Despite what he'd done, Eric still had some regard for the man. "Were you close?"

"Uncle Bill was more like a Dad to me than my own Dad was," Eric said. "Dad didn't have any time for me after my Mom died, unless I screwed up in school or something. Uncle Bill was the one who helped me with my college applications, he came to my high school graduation, he-" Eric's voice hitched and he broke out into fresh sobs. Penelope took this in with a cool expression. His display of grief was convincing. But then, how many other murderers had she seen do the exact same thing?

"And yet," she said. "You took the files about Mayor Hill from his office. You were working with Anarky to expose Mayor Hill. Why?"

Eric wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and continued. "Uncle Bill, Mayor Hill and my Dad were friends. I grew up with them around all the time. I thought Mayor Hill was a good guy." Eric took a deep breath. "I didn't notice anything was wrong about Mayor Hill. Not until my 18th birthday."

Penelope leaned forward slightly. "What happened?"

Eric took a deep breath, then began. "My Dad rented out this hotel suite for my birthday. Half my school was invited. Mayor Hill showed up too, with Uncle Bill and his staff. My Dad let us drink some beer." Eric paused. "There was a girl at the party, her name was Shannon. She was in my class. She got a little drunk."

Penelope got a sinking feeling in her stomach. "Go on." she said.

Eric gulped and continued. "She wasn't feeling good, so one of Mayor Hill's staff took her to a room so she could lie down. I went to check up on her about 10 minutes after that and I saw Hill and he was-" Eric shuddered. "He was on top of her! I went to get my Dad and he told me to shut up and ignore it! And then Hill, he comes out and wishes me Happy Birthday, like nothing had happened! Shannon didn't even remember what happened, but Hill was sure to give her family a big check. I tried to talk to Uncle Bill about it, but he couldn't even look me in the face." Eric shook his head. "All that talk about how he's brought down crime in this city. He's the biggest piece of shit. How could I just stand back and let him get away with doing that to my friend?"

"You couldn't," Penelope answered. "Not in good conscience. Was that around the time you became interested in Anarky?"

Eric nodded. "When I went off to college, I started anonymously posting stuff on the anti Hill chat rooms online. I was browsing and I found Anarky's postings on the deep web. Everything he said made so much sense."

"And he recruited you?"

Eric shook his head. "I showed up to a meeting and I begged him to let me join. I had a lot of dirt I could give them on Hill, but they needed proof."

"So you used your internship to get access to Barnes' files." Penelope said.

Eric nodded again. "Yeah."

"Eric," Penelope asked. "Why didn't you ever consider going to the police?"

Eric looked at her incredulously. "The cops? Seriously? The cops don't give a shit about anyone in this city!"

"Commissioner Gordon would have listened to you."

"Gordon's too tight with Hill. He would have just made it go away."

"That's not true, Eric." Penelope sat next to Eric on the pew. He looked at her, but didn't move. "Eric, as we speak, Commissioner Gordon is going over the information that you uncovered for Anarky. The last thing we need is to know exactly what happened to William Barnes." Eric looked down at his feet. "You were there, weren't you?"

Eric looked back up at her. "Do you think I did it?"

Penelope had just one chance to get this right. "No," she said and to her surprise she meant it. "I think you're a young man who tried to do the right thing and things got out of control. Barnes found out you were stealing files from him, didn't he?"

"Yeah," Eric said, in a subdued voice. "He called me into his office and asked me what the Hell I was doing. I told him that I couldn't stand by and do nothing anymore. That I had friends and we were going to take Hill down. I begged him to join me. I don't care if my Dad goes down, but I didn't want Uncle Bill to go down with them."

"What did he say?"

"He'd said he'd help me. He told me to meet him at his house the night after to go over the files about Hill."

This fit with what Bullock and Montoya had said about Barnes removing files from his office after speaking with Eric, that and the fact that he had kept them to begin with. Barnes had intended to public. Whether he saw the writing on the wall and decided to get in front of it or he legitimately did have a conscience somewhere deep inside of him, Penelope couldn't begin to guess. "What happened that night Eric?"

Eric said nothing at first, taking a deep, shuddering breath. "I went to his house, but he wasn't alone. One of Hill's staff was there. It was the same guy who took Shannon to that room at my birthday party. He and Uncle Bill were yelling at each other when I came in."

A member of Hill's staff. This could be the man who was at Barnes' office and at Eric's dorm room. "What did he look like?"

"Taller than me, brown hair. He wore a suit, like he was some kind of man in black or something. I don't know for sure what his name is. He and Uncle Bill looked up at me when I came in. The guy started asking me what I knew, who i'd been talking too. Uncle Bill yelled at him to back off. Then the guy grabbed one of Uncle Bill's knives."

An impulsive attack, just as she thought when she looked at the autopsy report that morning. But if what Eric was saying was true.."He tried to attack you?"

Tears began to stream down Eric's face and Penelope knew in that instant that he was telling the truth. He didn't kill William Barnes. "Uncle Bill got up to grab him, then told me to run for it. Then they guy got turned around and started to stab Uncle Bill." Eric began to sob in earnest now. "I just took off. I didn't try to do anything to help him! Uncle Bill's dead because he was trying to protect me!"

Penelope carefully rested her hand on Eric's shoulder. "You might have been killed too Eric," she said in as soothing a tone as she could. "It's not your fault." She let Eric cry it out for a few more minutes, then she asked. "Where did you go after that?"

Eric sighed. "Here," he said. "We use a lot of the old buildings in Gotham as places to hideout. I called my roommate back at Gotham U today to see if anyone had been looking for me."

"That's when you found out that the person who killed Barnes was looking for you. And that Edward was too. You called Anarky for help."

"Yeah," Eric answered. "And here we are. Anarky told me that he gave all the info I had to Riddler. What do you want from me?"

"Eric," Penelope said. "I know that you don't trust people in authority. With what you've seen, I can't say I blame you. But I want you to come with me back to GCPD and tell Commissioner Gordon what you told me. He's a fair man Eric. And you're the best person possible to help bring justice to the man who killed your Uncle Bill."

Eric bit his lower lip in hesitation. "I don't know."

Penelope sighed. One last card to play. "You said that you joined with Anarky because you couldn't let Hill get away with his crimes. If you run Eric, that is exactly what will happen."

Eric nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. I have to do this. For Shannon. For Uncle Bill." He got up. "Alright Dr. Young. I'll come with you."

* * *

It took all of Edward's considerable self-discipline not to jump out of the car when he saw Dr. Young walk into the cathedral with Eric Brewer. "One simple request," he muttered as he sank into his seat. "Stay where I can see you. Was that too hard a task?" He propped his elbow up against the window and sulked. It was bad enough that he couldn't even talk to Brewer himself, but now he couldn't even witness it? Oh well. The Tetch incident had proven that the woman wasn't incompetent. If she was willing to go into the church with him, she couldn't feel that threatened by him. Edward settled back in his seat and waited. Ten minutes passed with no sign of them. Edward checked his watch. How long could it take her to convince him to come back to GCPD with them? Another five minutes passed. Edward tapped his fingers across the dashboard. If they weren't out in another ten minutes, he'd go in, his agreement with Lonnie be damned. As he looked up from checking his watch, his eyes caught movement. There was a man walking towards the cathedral. A man in a suit. Edward sat upright as the man entered the cathedral.

 _Shit._

* * *

"Am I going to be in trouble for taking the files?" Eric asked Penelope as he waited for her to get up.

"That's a conversation you'll have to have with Gordon and an attorney," Penelope said. "But I'm sure you can come to an arrangement."

"What about the Riddler?" Eric asked, his earlier nervousness returning.

Penelope brushed herself off as she walked up towards Eric. "Don't worry about him. I can handle him."

Eric laughed a bit. "How'd you start working with him anyway?"

Penelope smiled slightly. "That's a bit of a long story. I'm sure he'd be happy to tell-" she stopped dead when she heard the door to the cathedral open. Was that Edward? Or Aaron?

Eric looked wide eyed at her. "Who's there?"

Penelope briskly walked up. "I'm not sure. Stay here." She gestured for Eric to move back by the pews as she walked towards the entrance. Within seconds, she could see the intruder and her breath was caught in her throat. There was a young man standing in front of her, almost Edward's height, with brown hair and wearing a black suit. Her attention was taken by the gun in his right hand.

"I need to speak with Eric Brewer," the man said. "Is he here?"


	8. The Unlikely Partnership: CASE CLOSED

Two thoughts occurred nearly simultaneously to Penelope as she stared at this man. The first, that she was looking into the face of the person who had killed William Barnes. The second, that he had likely come here to kill Eric. The second thought steeled her. As far as she knew, this was the only way out of the old cathedral. They were trapped. "Who are you?" she asked. "How did you find us? Are you working for Mayor Hill?"

The man's expression remained placid. "I've been following you since you showed up to Gotham University. With Nigma around, I knew it was only a matter of time until you led me to Eric Brewer. I just want to talk with him," he said, in a matter of fact tone, as if she was a secretary he was dictating an order to. "I don't have any problem with you."

Penelope stood her ground. "Just like you had no problem with William Barnes?"

The man's eyes widened, slightly. "Did Eric tell you I killed him?"

"Among other things."

The man recovered then and took a step towards her. Penelope fought back every instinct to run. Eric needed her to buy them as much time as possible. Had Aaron seen this man come in? Where was he? Where was Edward?

"Whatever Eric might have told you," the man said, "he's working with a terrorist. You can't believe a word he says."

"But I can believe you?" Penelope asked skeptically. "A man who showed up to a church with a gun? The GCPD already has the information Eric gave Anarky. There's no point to this." Penelope looked down towards the gun. "If you cooperate with GCPD, I'm sure you could get a deal." Penelope glanced back up towards the man. His face had gone white.

"Anarky gave you..." he murmured, looking down at his feet. His right hand clenched around the gun handle. "Nigma," he said. "I knew I should have followed him when he left GCPD."

And just how well do you think that would have ended? "It doesn't matter now," she said, sounding more confident than she felt. "Whatever Hill told you to do, you don't have to-"

"Hill didn't tell me to do any of this," the man said adamantly. "I'm here on my own time."

A silence filled the room as Penelope processed his words. "If you know what was on the files Eric stole from Barnes," she started, "then you have to know exactly what kind of a man you're throwing away your life for. What could Hill have possibly said or done to merit-"

"I know what Hill is!" the man shouted at her. "I've seen it with my own eyes! Do you think I like having to watch him, having to procure women for him like I'm some kind of a pimp!?" His face, flushed with anger, took on a determined expression. "But I have to," he said. "Because as horrible as Hill is, he's better than Quincy Sharp."

He killed William Barnes to keep Sharp out of office? Penelope had no love for the man, she never had, but Sharp was an overbearing buffoon. He wasn't a predator. How could he possibly be worse than Hill? "That's out of your hands now," she said. "Killing Eric now won't keep Hill in office. And you don't really want to kill him."

"No?" he asked. "He ruined everything. He's going to help get that fascist elected. Why couldn't Barnes just hand him over?"

There was the admission. "So Eric was telling the truth. Barnes did try to protect him from you."

The man froze for a moment. Then he raised his gun and pointed it at her. "Get out of my way," he said. "I don't want to kill you, but Eric Brewer needs to pay for what he's done."

This was the second time in less than six months that Penelope had had a gun drawn on her. Unlike that day at the Memorial however, Penelope wasn't ready to die. "No." She said in a tone so hard she scarcely recognized it as being hers. The man growled in frustration and before she could react, backhanded her with his left hand. She crashed to the floor with a cry of pain. The man nonchalantly stepped over her and walked toward the pews. Penelope got to her knees and prepared to chase after him when an all too familiar voice rang out.

"Dr. Young, stay down!"

The man turned with a start, raising his gun as a shot rang out. The man let out of loud shriek of pain, clutching at his abdomen, then crumpled to the floor. Penelope looked up at the entrance to the door. There was Edward, lowering his cane and looking at the scene with a mix of satisfaction and annoyance. "I did tell you to stay where I could see you, didn't I Dr.?"

Penelope got to her feet and rushed to where the man lay. Had Edward actually killed him? How would she explain that to Gordon? When she examined him however, she realized that there was no blood. The man was lying on the ground wheezing in pain and very much alive. She looked back to Edward. "What on Earth did you-"

"Rubber bullet," he explained. "A modification of one of my old trick canes. I swapped my regular cane out for this when I went back to my office earlier." He walked over to where the man lay and poked him with the tip. "And a good thing I did too, wouldn't you agree?"

The man craned his neck up at him. "Fuck you," he seethed.

Edward chuckled as he grabbed the gun from where it lay on the ground. "Sorry son, but you're not my type." He turned to Dr. Young. "This is Mayor Hill's chief of staff, Nicholas Mendelson. And from what I heard, the murderer of William Barnes."

Penelope nodded. "Yes. How do you know his name?"

"Give me some credit Dr. Young," Edward said. "I know the names of every staff member of City Hall and at GCPD for that matter."

Penelope raised an eyebrow. "And just how long were you standing there?"

"I intervened when I needed to." Edward looked past her toward the pews. "Where's Eric?"

Eric slowly appeared from behind a pew towards the front of the church. He froze when he saw Edward. "Holy shit!"

"It's alright Eric," Penelope said, beckoning him towards them. "No one's going to hurt you."

Eric hesitated, then walked up to where they stood. He looked at Mendelson, still sprawled out on the floor and his face darkened. "That's him," he said. "That's the man who killed Uncle Bill."

"Good enough for me," Edward said. "Now to get him to GCPD. Where's that oaf Cash when you need him?"

Almost on cue, Penelope heard the door open. "Doc! You alright!?"

"I'm fine Aaron," Penelope answered. "We're in here."

Cash entered the room and saw the scene for himself. He exchanged a glare with Edward. "Always a show with you, huh Nigma?"

"Well, one of us has to do something useful Cash." Edward bit back. "Where exactly were you?"

"I phoned it in to Bullock. He and Montoya are on the way." He walked over to Mendelson and pulled him to his feet. "This our guy?"

"Yes," Penelope answered. She gestured to Eric. "And this is Eric Brewer. He'll tell us everything that happened the night Barnes died. Right Eric?"

Eric nodded. "Yeah." He awkwardly shuffled, then raised his eyes to look at Edward. "What about after that? Are you going to hand me over to my Dad?"

Edward didn't answer, instead rubbing his chin in thought. Penelope felt her heart sink. Finally, Edward spoke. "Why would I?"

Eric's eyes widened. "Didn't my Dad hire you to find me?"

"And I did," Edward said. "I never said that I'd send you back to him. You're 19, aren't you?"

Eric nodded. "Yeah. Why?"

"Well, you're an adult. If I took you back to your father without your consent, I'd be committing a kidnapping. And to be perfectly candid, your father isn't paying me enough to go back to Arkham. You'll have to return your father's money, provided you haven't spent it, but other than that, you have no obligation to the man. And neither do I."

Eric's face turned from confusion to palpable relief. "Thank you Rid-Mr. Nigma. Thank you."

Edward just shrugged. Cash let out a huff. "You doing the right thing Nigma? Now I've seen everything." He marched Mendelson out of the church, Eric following behind. Penelope and Edward were now alone in the church. She didn't realize that she was staring at him until she saw him look questioningly at her.

"What?"

Not for the first time, Penelope was surprised at how little she truly knew this man. "You didn't have to do that."

"No," Edward admitted. "I didn't."

"Will his father give you any trouble for that?"

Edward shrugged. "Probably. But the publicity I'll get from this case will more than make up for him demanding a refund."

Penelope scoffed. "Of course. But still," she trailed off. She rubbed her arm before she spoke to him. "Thank you."

Edward looked surprised at her for a moment, then smiled, almost genuinely. Penelope had never seen him like that before. "Well," he said. "Time for my limelight. Or you know, I could give you credit. 25% sound right?"

Well, that didn't last long. "Really Edward?"

Once they had arrived at GCPD Headquarters Mendelson was taken off to questioning by Bullock and Montoya, while Edward and Dr. Young were sequestered in Gordon's office. Edward had mostly sat back and let Dr. Young narrate the events of the evening, only popping in to offer his own choice commentary.

"Eric confirmed that Mendelson killed Barnes," she said. "Between what we found out about Hill and that Mendelson himself attempted to kill him at the church and we can conclude-"

"That once again I was right and GCPD was wrong," Edward jumped in. "Where would you be without me Commissioner?"

"I shudder to think," Gordon drawled. "I've alerted the Mayor's counsel about what's happened. Hill will be down here in about a hour for questioning."

Edward perked up a bit. "I don't suppose you'll let me sit in on that, will you Commissioner?"

Gordon just fixed him with a blank look. "Haven't you had enough for one day Nigma?"

Edward let out a dramatic sigh. "Would you really deny me this Commissioner? After all the help I've been?"

"The answer is no Nigma." Gordon got up from behind his desk. "And don't to the media before word of this gets out. This is going to be unpleasant enough without Hill trying to pass this off as a personal attack from you."

Edward could concede that Gordon had a point, but the implication was clear. Gordon seemed to realize this though and awkwardly rubbed the back of his head. "That being said, you did good work here Nigma. Both of you did." He looked between Edward and Dr. Young. "You seem to work well with each other."

Oh. Well, if by working well with each other he meant that they hadn't murdered each other, he supposed he was right. Gordon got up and walked to his door. "Feel free to go on home," he said. "I know it's been a long day for you both." This seemed to be aimed more at Dr. Young than at him, Edward thought, but he knew how to take a hint. He got out of his chair and walked out of the open door, not before tipping his hat to Gordon. Gordon gave him a small nod in return.

"For what it's worth Nigma," he said. "If you can keep that ego in line, I wouldn't be opposed to collaborating with you again."

"Well thank you for that stunning vote of confidence. Good evening Commissioner." As much as it had gratified his ego to be approached for collaboration with the GCPD, he didn't think it was an experience he'd repeat any time soon. As he exited the office and walked towards the front entrance, he passed by Bullock and Montoya, dragging along a glum looking Mendelson. As Mendelson made eye contact with Edward, his eyes lit up in anger and disgust.

"Anything Sharp does is on you!" he hissed. He might have made a move to strike Edward if the detectives didn't have him cuffed.

As much as having Sharp in office didn't sit well with Edward, he wasn't about to be morally scolded by someone who had committed murder to keep a deviant in office. "And everything Hill did is on you," he said in a sotto voice. "People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones."

Mendelson's face flushed but before he could reply, Montoya gave him a shove. "Move it!" Edward stepped to the side to allow the detectives to pass by. As they walked past, Bullock let out one last parting shot.

"It'll be you soon enough, freak."

Edward's grip on his cane tightened and for a brief moment, he fantasized bashing the corpulent detective's head in with it. The moment passed and Bullock was gone, leaving Edward standing alone in the hall, with only the glares of other passing officers to keep him company. It didn't matter that he'd brought in a murderer and actually helped someone. It never would, would it? No matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried to stay within the confines of this new world he'd been dumped in, it would never be enough. The vultures were circled around him, just waiting for him to fall back into the abyss. Riddler. Freak. Monster. Liar. Cheater. Moron. Edward felt his pulse began to race. _What am I doing here? I don't belong here._ Edward took a deep breath to calm his nerves. _No. Not here. You don't care what they think. You just solved a high profile murder case and helped bring down a corrupt city official in the bargain. The media won't get enough of you, because even at half-power, you're still the smartest man in the room, even if no one else here believes it._

The soft sound of footsteps brought Edward out of his thoughts. He looked up to see Dr. Young, looking almost expectantly at him. He almost had to laugh a bit. For a woman who by all accounts had completely missed that the Joker was manipulating her, she did seem to have a knack for seeing things she shouldn't.

"You've been a thorn in the GCPD's side for over ten years," she said, almost gently. "One case isn't going to be enough to change their minds Edward."

Edward huffed. "Well, then it's a good thing I don't care what they think, isn't it Dr. Young?"

Dr. Young opened her mouth to retort, then closed it again. Then she asked, "What happens now?"

Edward leaned back against the wall and considered this. "Mendelson's on the hook for the murder of William Barnes, the attempted murder of Eric Brewer," he looked at the angry red mark on Dr. Young's cheek from where Mendelson had backhanded her. "And battery on you, I'd imagine. Eric Brewer will most likely return to Anarky's collective after he returns what he took from his father. If Hill's got any sense, he'll resign and do whatever his lawyer tells him." She didn't answer, but continued to look expectantly at him. "But you want to know what happens now with us." The look on her face told him that he was right on the mark. "Do you trust me, Dr. Young?"

She looked at him with a confused expression. "What?"

Edward let out a sigh. "It's a simple question. Do you trust me?"

Dr. Young furrowed her brow as she considered this. Edward wasn't sure he wanted to know her answer. Finally, she spoke. "To be a morally upstanding citizen? No. To not relapse? Yes."

His turn now. Edward felt a rare moment of indecision. Just like with Ellen, whatever he did couldn't be easily undone. "Well," he said, putting on more bravado than he felt, "I can work with that."

Dr. Young's eyes widened. "You mean you'll tell me-"

Edward held a hand up. "Not here. Your office, tomorrow morning."

Penelope nodded. "All right."

Edward arrived bright and early the next morning, after enduring a long, vitriolic conversation with Thomas Brewer that ended only when the first news reports about Hill's . downfall began to trickle in. Brewer the elder couldn't get off the phone fast enough. Edward grinned as he thought of it. Brewer would be having his own legal issues to deal with soon enough. The details Edward himself had leaked to Vicki Vale would see to that. He arrived at Dr. Young's door and jauntily knocked on it. He walked in without even bothering to wait for a reply. "Good morning, Dr. Young!" he said jovially to the woman sitting at her desk.

Dr. Young made no attempt to greet him. She was listening intently to the radio on her desk and Edward recognized it as Jack Ryder's radio show. "Mayor Hill denies any involvement in the murder of William Barnes and states that he intends to stay in the race. In this reporter's opinion however, it's only a matter of time until these accusations force Hill to resign, if not arrested. Hill's biggest rival Quincy Sharp released a statement this morning: 'These appalling accusations surrounding Mayor Hill's misconduct and the involvement of his staff in this murder are exhibits A and B in our institutional corruption has made our city rotten to the core. As your mayor, I will see to it that this corruption is driven out from top to bottom.'"

Edward let out a derisive snort. "Well. Sharp certainly didn't take long before taking advantage of this fiasco."

"That's Sharp's way," Dr. Young said, lowering the volume on her radio. "Even back at the asylum. The doctors never could come up with an idea that he wpuldn't try to take credit for." She looked up at him. "He's not the Arkham official I want to talk about though."

Edward quirked an eyebrow up at her. "Not one for small talk, are you?" He leaned against her desk, ignoring the look she sent his way. "As I'm sure you recall, Quincy Sharp hired me back in May to investigate the threats against his campaign. It wasn't his idea though. It was Hugo Strange's. Strange told Sharp to keep information from me while I was investigating the case."

Dr. Young looked up at him with surprise on her face. "How do you know?"

"He admitted it to me himself, when I called him after the memorial. That's not all: According to Joe Bryant, former security guard, Sharp has been delegating all of his responsibilities at Arkham to Strange. He hardly makes a move without Strange's input."

"I remember Joe," Dr. Young said. "If that's what he's telling you, than it must be rooted in some truth. He's not a liar. But why would Strange want to hire you?"

"He said it was to test me. He wanted to, and I quote, 'see what kind of man I was when riddles aren't involved'."

"He wanted to test your intellectual capabilities," she said. "Don't take this the wrong way Edward, but when you went into a coma, no one expected you to wake up, let alone be as functional as you are."

Edward let a wan smile creep onto his face. "Well, I do live to surpass expectations. But we're digressing. There's one more thing: you remember the Bierko case, when he was accosting me? He all but admitted to me that he sent Tetch after me."

Dr. Young's mouth dropped. "He set you up," she said. "Do you have any proof of this?"

"No," Edward said testily. "Do you think I'm lying to you?"

Dr. Young shook her head. "No, of course not. You're many things Edward, but you've never been a liar. So Strange sets up a situation where he can test your intellect, then he tries to have you thrown back into Arkham. What is this? A grudge?'

"I doubt that. You told me yourself you didn't recall any personal history between us. And if all he wanted was me out of the picture, he had plenty of opportunities while I was comatose. No, he thinks I'm a threat to him somehow."

"And if Bryant's right, he's the man behind Sharp." Dr. Young's face grew pale as she looked at the radio. "And we just all but guaranteed Sharp's election."

Edward shrugged. "Hill did that to himself. All we did was hasten the inevitable."

Dr. Young didn't look entirely convinced, but she met his gaze with a steely look. "So what do you intend to do about this?"

"I need more information. I need to figure out what exactly Strange thinks I'm a threat to and prove him right."

"I still have contacts at the Asylum," Dr. Young stated. "I can look into him that way-"

"And lead him right to you." Edward cut her off.

She looked up at him with an irritated look. "I can be discreet."

"I don't doubt it," Edward said, "But there's a better way you can help. You consult with the GCPD. If and when Sharp gets elected, he'll likely be spending time around Gordon."

Dr. Young's eyes lit up in understanding. "You want me to be your eyes and ears in GCPD." Her face darkened slightly. "Edward, I am not going to compromise my job or do anything illegal for you."

"And I'll never ask you to," he said. "But Sharp is, if my guess is right, Strange's useful idiot. You'll be able to keep an eye on him in a way that I can't. I'm trusting you with this."

Dr. Young bit her lip, then slowly nodded. "I have two conditions. One: you keep me in the loop about everything. Two: the second, and I mean the second you find any proof that Strange is doing something illegal, you come with me to Gordon. I know you don't care for GCPD, but you aren't a criminal anymore. You need to be seen as above board as possible."

Edward somehow doubted that, but didn't say a word. He'd cross that bridge when he got to it. "Fine. My conditions are the same as on the Barnes case: You are not my psychiatrist. I don't want to hear anything about my mental state until or unless it becomes relevant. Deal?"

Dr. Young nodded. "Deal."

Edward let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Good." There was a part of him that missed having a sparring partner. Not that he'd ever admit that. "In the mean time," he said in a lighter tone. "There's no reason we can't have a bit of fun. I've got a case that I think you might like."

He almost laughed at the surprised look on her face. "You want my help on a case of yours?"

"I don't need anyone's help on my cases. I want your opinion. If you're going to be keeping up with me, you'll need to keep your brain in top condition."

"I have two Master degrees Edward. I think I can keep up with you just fine."

Edward smiled a bit then. "Well then," he said. "Game on Dr."

Casefile 0193: CASE CLOSED


	9. Election Night

Oct. 12th, 2006

 **THIS IS A BREAKING NEWS REPORT FROM GCNN. AFTER WEEKS OF FENDING OFF ALLEGATIONS OF SEXUAL MISCONDUCT, MAYOR HAMILTON HILL HAS ANNOUNCED THAT HE WILL RESIGN AS MAYOR, EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY. WHILE DEPUTY MAYOR JACOB WHISTLER WILL SERVE OUT THE REST OF HILL'S TERM, HE HAS GONE ON THE RECORD AS NOT RUNNING FOR MAYOR HIMSELF. WITH HILL'S DEPARTURE FROM POLITICS COMES A MAJOR SHAKE-UP IN THE MAYORAL RACE: WARDEN QUINCY SHARP, WHO UP UNTIL THE ALLEGATIONS BROKE WAS TRAILING HILL BY THREE PERCENTAGE POINTS, IS NOW LEADING IN THE POLLS BY THE DOUBLE DIGITS. BARRING ANY LAST MINUTE UPSET, IT APPEARS THAT QUINCY SHARP WILL BE THE NEXT MAYOR OF GOTHAM CITY.**

Commissioner Gordon sighed as he watched the newscast from his office. He'd known this day was coming, from the moment Nigma and Dr. Young had brought him Eric Brewer's laptop. The only surprise to him was that it had taken this long. Hill had denied the allegations at first. He'd actually had the gall to suggest that Nigma had doctored everything. It was only when he heard about Mendelson being arrested for Barnes' murder that the Mayor had crumbled. Hill at least had had the decency not to ask Gordon to cover it up. Gordon pulled out his desk drawer and took out his pipe. He needed a smoke.

While he was reaching into his pocket to pull out a book of matches, he could hear the window open and he felt the cool night air. After a moment, he heard heavy footsteps enter his office. "Commisioner."

Gordon nodded in acknowledge. "I was wondering if I'd see you tonight. Wish for once it could be under pleasant circumstances."

"It had to be done Jim. After what you uncovered on Hill, there was no other acceptable option but his resignation."

"I know," Gordon answered. "Don't get me wrong, I never liked the man. If the DA brings charges against him, I'll haul him in here in cuffs myself. Still..."

Gordon winced as the images on his office television changed to a video of one of Sharp's rallies. Sharp, as usual, was whipping the crowd up with his anti crime platform. Gordon may have never liked Hill, but he liked Sharp less. This kind of inflammatory grandstanding was awful enough when he'd been in charge of Arkham. It was infuriating in the political sphere. "I can't help but feel like we've traded the Devil we know for the Devil we don't."

Oct. 31st, 2006

 **THIS IS VICKI VALE, WITH GCNN. WHILE AT A HALLOWEEN EVENT TODAY, MAYORAL FRONT RUNNER QUINCY SHARP WAS ACCOSTED BY A MASKED PROTESTOR WHO ACCUSED HIM OF ABUSING THE PATIENTS AT ARKHAM ASYLUM DURING HIS TENURE AS WARDEN. THE UNIDENTIFIED MAN WAS QUICKLY ESCORTED OUT BY MEMBERS OF SHARP'S SECURITY DETAIL. WARDEN SHARP HAS SINCE CATEGORICALLY DENIED THE ACCUSATIONS, STATING THAT UNDER HIS TENURE, ARKHAM MAINTAINED A HIGH STANDARD OF PATIENT CARE. WITH ONLY ONE WEEK TO GO BEFORE THE ELECTION, IT'S UNCLEAR WHAT, IF ANY EFFECT THIS INCIDENT WILL HAVE ON SHARP'S STANDING IN THE POLLS. THIS IS VICKI VALE, WITH GCNN.**

Edward never cared for Halloween. In his dimly remembered past, he disliked having to compete with revelers for space and attention. Now, the day brought too many thoughts about Jonathan. Halloween did have its upside though. The folks in costumes provided him with excellent cover as he made his way through the busy downtown streets, to the emptier streets of the Bowery. He looked behind him before he descended into one of the abandoned subway stations that littered the neighborhood. When he was satisfied he hadn't been followed, he walked down the steps, his cane at the ready. In this climate, there was no such thing as being too careful.

Lonnie was waiting for him on the platform. He was wearing his customary mask, but his body language seemed troubled. "Evening Lonnie," Edward greeted. "It's your meeting."

"It's about what happened at Sharp's event today."

"I saw that on the news. One of your people, I take it?"

Lonnie nodded. "He was one of my informants. I had him working as an intern on Sharp's campaign."

Was? Edward didn't like the sound of that. "I can't help but notice that you're speaking about him in past tense."

"I've lost contact with him."

"Is that all? Lonnie, he's probably in a holding cell."

"No," Lonnie said. "I've been monitoring the police scanners. There was no record of him being arrested. He wasn't just released outside of the building either. That event was ten hours ago. He would have made contact with me by now."

There was a pause as Edward digested this. "Lonnie," he said carefully. "What are you saying? That Sharp had his security team 'dispose' of him? A bit paranoid, don't you think?"

"From what I've heard of Sharp from my people and you, am I wrong?"

Edward chewed the bottom of his lip. "Perhaps not," he conceded. "But what does that have to do with me exactly?"

"Until I find out what happened to him, I'm pulling all of my informants from Sharp's circle. I'm not going to make an attempt to infiltrate the asylum either. You'll need to supply your own informants."

Edward set his jaw. "Lonnie," he seethed. "That wasn't the deal. I seem to remember that in return for me lending you my digital expertise, you would supply me with information about Sharp."

"That was before Sharp started making my people disappear Nigma!" Lonnie yelled. He took a moment to calm himself before he spoke again. "If we hear anything on the streets, I'll let you know. But I'm not risking anymore of my people. My decision is final." Lonnie turned and disappeared down a tunnel, leaving Edward to ponder his next steps.

As he emerged from the subway entrance and started walking back towards the city, Edward briefly thought about Dr. Young. If Lonnie was right, if Sharp, or Strange rather, were making people who opposed them disappear, if either of them found out that Dr. Young was an ally of his-Edward shook his head. She wasn't some idealistic college student seduced by the thought of taking down 'the man'. She knew better. She'd be alright.

Nov. 5, 2006.

 **TONIGHT ON A SPECIAL TV BROADCAST OF THE JACK RYDER SHOW, IT'S ALL CITY POLITICS! AHEAD OF TOMORROW'S MAYORAL ELECTION, WE'LL BE TALKING ABOUT HOW HILL'S DOWNFALL HAS IMPACTED THE RACE, WHAT ARE THE ISSUES THAT GOTHAMITES CARE ABOUT AS THEY HEAD INTO THE POLLS AND WHAT CHANGES WE CAN EXPECT TO SEE FROM A MAYOR SHARP. LATER ON IN THE PROGRAM, WE'LL BE JOINED BY A SPECIAL GUEST, FORMER SUPER VILLAIN AND THE MAN WHO BROUGHT HILL DOWN HIMSELF, EDWARD NIGMA. THAT'S ALL TONIGHT, ON THE JACK RYDER SHOW.**

"'Man who brought Hill down himself,'" Aaron muttered as Ryder's program aired on one of the televisions in the bull pen. "Is that what he's saying? What a fucking prick."

Penelope shrugged. "He was instrumental in that case Aaron." She'd been for a consultation on a case when she caught Edward's appearance on the TV. He'd kept to his promise to Gordon not to go to the media before Hill's resignation. He'd made up for that in the weeks since. At Penelope's last count, this was his fifth media appearance in three weeks.

Aaron scoffed. "The Brewer kid did way more. You deserve some of the credit too Doc. 'Sides, I'm sick of seeing that smug face every night on the TV."

"Same here," Bullock called out from his and Montoya's desks. "Just watch, he's gonna take credit when Sharp gets elected tomorrow. Mark my words."

Montoya walked over to where Dr. Young was watching the TV. "He does seem a bit more puffed up than usual, and that's saying something."

Penelope gave an noncommittal hum as she watched Edward interact with Ryder. Montoya wasn't wrong. Edward's considerable ego was on full display, Ryder's demeanor not helping matters. In fact, he was even more amped up than he had been when he'd made his first appearance on Vicki Vale's program last month. Whenever Ryder's attention wasn't on him, Edward was drumming his fingers on the desk he was sitting at. When Ryder asked him directly about how he felt about being the person responsible for Sharp's imminent election, he blinked twice before answering. His laughter was forced. Penelope bit her lip. While her sessions with Edward back at Arkham Asylum were largely unproductive, they hadn't been a complete waste. She'd been able to memorize his tells. And right now, they were telling her that he was overcompensating.

Edward was nervous.

Nov. 6th, 2006

 **THIS IS A BREAKING NEWS BULLETIN FROM GCNN: WITH 70% OF THE VOTE IN, GCNN HAS CALLED THE MAYORAL RACE FOR ARKHAM ASYLUM WARDEN QUINCY SHARP. WARDEN SHARP HAS WALKED AWAY WITH 60.5% OF THE VOTE, A MORE THAN DOUBLE DIGIT LEAD AHEAD OF HIS NEAREST COMPETITOR. WE TAKE YOU NOW LIVE TO SHARP'S CAMPAIGN HEADQUARTERS WHERE MAYOR ELECT SHARP IS ADDRESSING HIS SUPPORTERS.**

 **"THIS IS A NEW DAY FOR GOTHAM CITY. TOGETHER, WE WILL RID THIS CITY OF CRIME AND OF THE PEOPLE WHO HAVE ENDANGERED OUR CITIZENS FOR FAR TOO LONG. I PROMISE AS YOUR NEW MAYOR, WE WILL SEE AN END TO THREATS THAT HAVE PLAGUED OUR CITY ONCE AND FOR ALL!"**

The Arkham staffers had been recruited to attend Sharp's celebration at his campaign headquarters. All but one. Dr. Hugo Strange was in his office, on a very important phone call.

"Everything has gone according to plan," he said. "When Sharp assumes office in January, we will be able to begin Phase One of our operation."

"Excellent. I'll be expecting regular updates. And the Detective?"

Strange let out a cold laugh. "The election results were perfectly legitimate. There's nothing he can do do contest it. Thanks to Nigma, we did not have to use our fail safe options." It seemed that the grasping fool had his uses.

"Very well. Keep an eye on him. Both of them." The phone call ended with a click.

Strange leaned back in his chair and thought of the night's events with satisfaction. The seeds were planted. His grand vision was well on its way to becoming a reality. Nothing could oppose him now.


	10. Interlude: Christmas in Gotham, pt 1

_December 21st, 2006_

 _Christmas in Gotham_

 _I've never particularly cared for the Christmas season. This excursion didn't exactly change my mind._

 _-E. Nigma, Private Investigator_

Edward Nigma pored over the photos from his latest case. Standard really. An elderly millionaire had suffered a heart attack and conveniently left all of his money to his widow, a model less than a third his age. Only, the heart attack was actually brought on by an overdose of a male enhancement drug. And who had access? Who stood to benefit? Did one even need to ask? It was only a matter of tracing her purchase to the drug store close by the gym where she'd been conducting an affair with her personal trainer and then-

"This is boring. I thought being a PI was more exciting!"

Edward looked up from the photographs to the bored teenager sitting in front of his desk. Edward was used by now to visitors, but his daughter was still something of a novelty. "Contrary to what pulp fiction and the movies might tell you," he said "Most private investigative work is fairly routine."

Ellen leaned forward, one hand on her chin. "Yeah, but you were a super villain! Doesn't that mean you get really juicy gigs?"

If you only knew. "I've had my share of 'juicy' cases yes. They aren't ones I'll ever let you tag along on though."

Ellen sulked. "Lame." She leaned back in the chair. "When you said I could come over today, I didn't think I'd be stuck in your office all day."

"We'll go out later," Edward said, turning his attention back to the photos. "I need to finish this first. Listen to that ancient Walkman of yours for a bit."

"My batteries died."

"Then why don't you sketch something?"

Ellen stretched out dramatically. "I'm not feeling inspired."

"That sounds like a personal problem. Did you bring a book?"

Ellen shook her head, then cast her eyes towards Edward's filing cabinet. "Can I look at your old case files?"

"Absolutely not."

Ellen pouted. "Aww. Why not?"

Edward was becoming increasingly more impatient. "Well for one, those are confidential. Second, they aren't even remotely appropriate reading material for children."

Ellen stuck out her tongue. "I'm 15, not a kid!"

Edward raised an eyebrow. "Well, that certainly convinced me."

Ellen sank down in the chair with a huff. "Boring old man."

Edward's eyebrow twitched. "What have I told you about calling me that?"

A smirk came to Ellen's face. "Sorry Pops." It was in these moments that Edward saw how much she took after him. That was the most frustrating thing about her. He sighed and looked at his photos. Perhaps if he'd found out about her when she was younger, it would be easier to connect with her. There was something almost pleasant about young children, before society's adulation of willful ignorance stifled their natural curiosity and wonder of the world around them. Teenagers though? He hadn't particularly liked them when he was one and adulthood had only made him like them less. To get saddled with one as obstinate as Ellen, in addition to everything else he had on his plate seemed more like a punishment than a blessing at times. Still, she was his and she was still very young. There was time to mold her into something more acceptable.

Ellen let out another huff. "I'm still booored!"

"You don't have to stay here," Edward said, his patience nearly at an end. "If you're this bored, go off and do something. I'll meet you later."

Ellen sulked. "Kicking your kid out this close to Christmas? Harsh Pops."

"Ellen, you know I detest that nickname and it's not anywhere near-" Edward glanced at his desk calendar. Oh. December 21st. Christmas Eve was three days away. And he hadn't done any shopping. "Oh Hell."

A mischievous look came to Ellen's face. "You haven't done any shopping have you?"

Now it was Edward's turn to huff. "In my defense, it's not like I have many people to shop for. Have you?"

Ellen's smile fell a bit. "No." Her face lit up. "That's what we should do! We should go shopping together!"

Edward wasn't thrilled at this prospect, but he couldn't think of much else to do with her. "I see it was only a matter of time before you succeeded in dragging me to a mall."

Ellen shook her head. "I don't wanna go to a mall, I wanna go to that open air market in the Bowery! The one under that big glass dome! I heard it's really cool! Can we go?"

Edward's enthusiasm plunged. "Do you mean Jezebel Center?" Please say no.

Ellen nodded eagerly. "Yeah!"

Edward stifled a curse. "Ellen," he said. "Jezebel Center is a poorly laid out tourist trap filled with overpriced garbage even Cluemaster wouldn't steal."

Ellen was deterred by this description in the slightest. "But it's got lights set up everywhere! My friend Marisol said that the glass dome lights up at night too! Can't we check it out? Please?"

Edward rubbed his temple with his fingers. Jezebel Center was going to be a zoo this time of year. That and not only was it a tourist magnet, it was a beacon for all sorts of scoundrels who were looking to make a quick buck ripping off the customers. That and he was pretty sure he was banned from at least half of the stores in the complex. The look on Ellen's face however, showed that she wouldn't be denied.

"Very well," he said in a resigned tone. The smile on Ellen's face made this somewhat more palatable for him. Somewhat. "Just give me a few minutes to finish this. Then we need to go to my apartment so I can change. Then we'll go."

Ellen raised her arms up and let out a whoop. "You're the best Pops!"

Edward raised an eyebrow. "If I'm going to take you to this madhouse, can't you at least call me something other than 'Pops'?"

"Sorry Old Man."

"ELLEN!"

* * *

 _I already regret this._

They'd been stuck in a traffic jam on 34th street for the past twenty minutes. Edward glared at the flashing red lights ahead and let out an impatient sigh. It seemed every time it snowed in this cursed city, some idiot would insist on getting in a wreck and making everyone else suffer for their incompetence. Besides him in the passenger seat, Ellen was too busy looking at the lights of Downtown Gotham City to pay much attention to the traffic, or to her irritated father. Edward paused to consider her for a second. "Have you never been in this part of the city?"

"I have a few times, on school trips. My Mom took me to the fine arts museum by the Iceberg Lounge once or twice too. I've never been on Christmas though." She craned in her seat to get a glimpse of the glass dome above the Jezebel Center, just visible in the distance. Her grin was wide. "This is going to be so cool!"

Finally, the car ahead pulled forward and Edward put his foot on the gas. His car slowly lurched forward. By Edward's estimation, it would easily take another twenty minutes to get to the damn center. Or not. Edward turned right down an alley way. Ellen looked confused. "Wait. Where are we going?"

"One of the benefits of my profession: I know where to park a car out of sight." Edward found a spot next to an abandoned store front. This would do. He parked the car. "I hope you don't mind a bit of a walk, but this is better than being stuck in that traffic jam."

"I don't care," Ellen said, unbuckling her seat belt. "I was the one who said we should take the subway." She opened her car door and took a look at the alley way. She looked back at Edward as he got out of the car. "Are you sure you're not going to get towed?"

"That won't be a problem." Edward answered. Being friends with the man who ran the Bowery helped. Edward gestured back towards the main street. "Shall we?"

He barely finished his sentence before Ellen was tearing towards the Center. Edward actually had to quicken his pace somewhat. Eager child. "Don't run!" He called out after her. "You'll slip on the ice!"

"No I won't!" Ellen called back. "It's not even that icy! Hurry up Old Man!"

Edward frowned. "What did I tell you about calling me that? Slow down! Stay where I can see you!"

Ellen reluctantly came to a stop, letting Edward catch up to her. "There," he said. "Honestly, one would think you've never been allowed out of your house with how you're carrying on."

Ellen rolled her eyes. "Whatever." The two of them resumed a slower pace towards the center, weaving through the crowd. Edward slowed his pace so that he was walking directly behind Ellen, keeping his attention on the mob around them, making sure he was ready to react to anything that might happen. One of the many conditions Ellen's grandmother had set in order for him to have a relationship with her, and one that he happened to agree with, was that he would not publicly acknowledge that Ellen was his daughter. Hence the return to his apartment to change. He was dressed in a long, dark green winter coat and black dress slacks, without his signature hat, or even his purple glasses, instead wearing standard tinted shades. The only Riddler affectation he had on him was his cane, because one could never be too careful. Luckily, outside of his choice in usual fashion, he was so physically indistinct that he'd be unrecognizable to his fellow Gothamites, barring perhaps the GCPD or other Rogues. Tonight, he was just an average father on an outing with his daughter. So far, as the two of them walked unmolested towards the entrance to Jezebel Center, it was working. No one had paid them a second thought.

Ellen ran up to the front entrance and paused. She turned back towards Edward, her green eyes almost comically wide. "This is so cool!" she squealed. Edward wasn't quite as enthusiastic. Jezebel Center was an outdoor shopping complex about two stories tall, with a few dozen stores and boutiques ranging from the kitschy to the high end tucked along the balconies. The glass dome was directly above them, but the lights were dimmed in the late afternoon light. Hopefully, Ellen wouldn't want to stay too late. It was expected to snow again that night and Edward hated winter almost as much as he hated summer in Gotham. Seeing the smile on Ellen's face though made him feel indulgent. Ellen jogged up to the directory posted just by the front staircase. "Where do I wanna go?" she asked herself, running a finger down a line of store names. "You've been here before, right Pops? Where should we go first?"

Edward hummed as he scanned the shop names. He'd been here before alright. He'd held up at least four of these stores. "I'd suggest finding a stationary store. I need to pick up a few knick knacks for Nina and Dierdre."

Ellen looked up at him with a blank expression. "Nina and Dierdre?" she asked. Then her eyes lit up. "Oh! Query and Echo!"

"Not so loud," Edward hushed her. "And they haven't gone by those names for a long time."

Ellen nodded. "OK." She looked back at Edward with a smile. "So, they weren't just your henchgirls, right? They're your friends too?"

Edward nodded. "They are. The both of them are very dear to me." Edward thought of them and a fond smile came to his face. "You could almost say that the two of them are like sisters to me."

"Sisters huh?" Ellen laughed a bit. "Does that make them my honorary aunts?"

Edward considered this for a moment. "I suppose it would." Nina especially would get a kick out of that. "The two of them would like to meet you one of these days."

"Really?" Ellen almost squeaked and it made Edward's heart hurt a bit. For all her teenage stubbornness, she was still so young. "That'd be awesome! They'd be the coolest aunts ever. They can teach me how to shoot a gun and ride a motorcycle!"

Edward dramatically placed his hand over his heart. "You haven't known me for six months and you already want to kill me! There will be absolutely none of that!"

Ellen pouted. "Ah, why not?"

Edward arched an eyebrow at her. "Why-do you really need to ask why not?"

Ellen huffed. "OK, maybe not the gun. What about the motorcycle lessons?"

"When I'm dead and buried," Edward answered without missing a beat.

Ellen pouted. "Boring old man. And how would you even enforce that? I don't live with you!"

"I have my ways," Edward answered, deciding not to react to the hated nickname. He gestured up towards the stairs. "Shall we?"

Ellen's pout instantly vanished. "Yeah! Let's go!" She began to go up the steps of the staircase, two at a time. "Come on Old Man!"

Edward shook his head. Shopping with a teenaged girl. What would his former colleagues have to say if they saw him now? Still, he decided as he followed her up. This could actually be amusing. What was the worst that could happen?

* * *

"I don't see why you brought me here Brown. This is a waste of my time."

Stephanie rolled her eyes as she looked at the hats on display. "Oh come on half-pint. Where's your Christmas Spirit?"

Beside here, Damian huffed. " _Tt_. I should be back at the manor training, not wasting my time with you buying trinkets."

"Blame your Dad Damian," Stephanie said. "It was either you come with me here or you go to his Holiday party at Wayne Corp. You needed to get out of that house before you and Tim killed each other."

"You mean before I put Drake in his place," Damian corrected. He was about to say something more when he roughly grabbed onto Stephanie's hand. "Brown! Look!"

Stephanie put the hat back and turned around, at the ready. "What is it?" she asked. "A robbery? A rogue?"

Damian gestured to the outside of a stationary shop down a few feet from them. "There! That man who just came out!"

Stephanie looked at what Damian was pointing at. At first glance, it seemed like a an average man and his daughter out on a Christmas shopping trip. She was about to joke about Damian being paranoid when the man came closer and her nerves heightened. Even in casual get up, she knew that face anywhere. "Edward Nigma."

"Riddler," Damian growled. "What's he doing here?"

Stephanie tried to go back to shopping, less Nigma see her and recognize her. She wasn't sure how much of his memory loss was legit, but that would be an awkward meeting either way. An awkward meeting she did not want. "Shopping," she said. "Just like us. Do you think Alfred would like a brown or black hat?"

"Why is he trying to disguise himself? You don't find that suspicious?" Damian asked.

"Damian," Stephanie said, as measured as she could. "He's reformed. He's been reformed for over a year." She should be happy about that. It meant one less costumed baddie on the street. Then she thought of her childhood, of her father and she felt bitter. "He probably doesn't want to get hassled by people."

"And who's the girl?"

Stephanie looked again when she was sure that she was out of Nigma's line of sight. When she recognized Nigma, she'd forgotten about the girl. Now that she took a second look, she could see the resemblance between the two and she almost dropped her bag. "No way. I think that's his kid!"

Damian looked disgusted. "The Riddler has a spawn!?" He looked up at her. "You said you knew him when you were a whelp. You never saw her before?"

Stephanie shook her head. Now she remembered. There had been a news story a few months back about some girl who stopped an armed robbery at a deli and claimed she was the Riddler's daughter. Not even Bruce was sure that was true. "Wait until I tell Tim and Cass about this."

As the two walked out of sight, Damian moved to follow them. "Hey!" Stephanie yelped. "Where are you going?"

Damian looked back at her as if he thought she was an idiot. "I'm following them, obviously."

"Damian," Stephanie protested. "They aren't even doing anything!"

"Not yet," Damian said. "And besides, trailing Riddler will be more entertaining than shopping with you!" And with that, Damian walked off after them. Stephanie looked up Heavenwards and sighed. This was the last time she volunteered to Damian-sit.


	11. Christmas in Gotham, pt 2

They'd been at Jezebel Center for over an hour now and so far, Edward had to admit, it had been almost pleasant. Edward had managed to pick up stationary cards for Dierdre and Nina and a new fountain pen for Oswald. Selina's tastes ran decidedly a little more expensive than what Edward was willing to pay for so he'd decided to just take her out for dinner. He'd toyed briefly with getting something for Dr. Young, but not only did he not even remotely know what she might want, he wasn't sure he wanted to see her reaction. That just left Ellen herself, which reminded him that he'd lost sight of her. Again.

"Ellen!" he asked, taking a look around. "Where did you go this time?"

"Back here Pops!" he heard her voice, a few storefronts down. With a huff, he walked back to see what had grabbed her attention. He found her looking through a window at some purses on display. She pointed to one particular purse, a sickly baby pink one with a beaded poodle embroidered on the front. "I think I'm gonna get that one."

Edward winced. "Don't take this the wrong way, but pink is most definitely not your color."

Ellen pulled a face. "Not for me, old man! For Gramma! She loves poodles!"

Edward took another look at the purse, trying to find a price tag. "Can you afford that?"

"Sure," Ellen. "I worked at a shoe store in the mall over the summer. I still got some money saved up from that. 'Sides, if she knew you helped pay for it, she'd probably set it on fire."

Edward suppressed a shudder at the memory of meeting Ellen's grandmother. "That's the least she would do, which is why I wasn't going to offer. Still, don't spend too much of your own-" Ellen darted into the store before he could finish his sentence. He shook his head in exasperation. Ellen had her moments, but she had absolutely no impulse control. With how willing Ellen seemed to be to just do as she pleased, Edward had to wonder why she'd even wanted to come here with him at all. She was quick at least, as she soon exited the store with her purchase in hand.

"Done!" she said triumphantly.

"Well done," Edward answered. "Now can we move on?"

Ellen nodded and the two continued their walk in silence. This was what was making this trip almost pleasant for Edward. One thing he'd never been accused of by anyone he'd ever remembered knowing was not having anything to say. And yet, it seemed as if, outside of commenting on whatever whim she had when exploring the center, he had nothing to say to her. Ellen would look at him occasionally, but say nothing herself. It was getting irritating. Alright, maybe they were more like acquaintances than father and daughter at this point, but surely Edward Nigma, certified genius could think of something to say to his own flesh and blood.

"So," he asked. "How's school?"

Ellen shrugged. "It's okay, I guess. Same as when you asked me this morning."

Dammit. He tried again. "Have you thought about college yet?"

Ellen shrugged again. "Not really. I'm only a Sophomore you know."

"I know," Edward said. "But next year you'll be a Junior. Then you'll be 18 before you know. It's worth thinking about at least."

Ellen gave him a wry look. "Counting down the days till I'm an adult Old Man?"

Edward huffed. "Well, pardon me for taking an interest in my daughter's academics."

Ellen rolled her eyes. "Jeez. You're worse than Gramma."

Hugo Strange, for all his deviance, couldn't come up with a better way to thoroughly irritate Edward more than Ellen's attitude. "I'm just trying to make conversation with you," he said. "There's no need to be so combative with me."

Ellen's face reddened. "I'm not-ugh!" She continued to walk with him, in stony silence for a few minutes. "I don't want to fight with you," She said finally.

Edward sighed. "I don't want to fight with you either Ellen. So, if you don't want to talk about school, what do you want to talk about?"

Ellen bit her lip before answering. "Can I pick anything?"

"Anything within reason," Edward said. "And keep in mind, we're in a public venue."

"Yeah yeah.." Ellen said before trailing off. Then she looked up to make eye contact with him. "You've asked me a lot of questions about my life since we met, but I still don't know a lot about you. Other than what's on the net at least."

Edward's curiosity was piqued a bit, though he could guess where this was going. "What do you want to know? And please, keep any and all questions about my past career to a minimum."

"Do you have any other family?"

Edward took a deep breath. Of course, she'd ask about that. "My father, your grandfather, died almost twenty years ago. And before you ask, no I didn't kill him." I wish I had. "Last I heard, my mother was still alive." And living under an assumed name in Costa Rica. "I don't think you'll ever meet her though. As far as I'm aware, there's no one else."

Ellen nodded. "Do you still hate Batman?"

Edward sucked on his teeth. "Hate is a strong word. I don't hate the man. I resent him a bit at times yes, but I don't hate him."

Ellen looked up at him. "Why? Because of old Rogue stuff?"

Because of that. Because of the continued suspicion. Because of the Asylum. Because of Jonathan-"Yes," he said a little too quickly. "Because of that."

Ellen hummed a bit. Edward was hoping this would be the end of it. "Are you dating anybody?"

This made Edward stop in his tracks. "What-why on Earth would you ask me that?"

Ellen shrugged. "I was just wondering. Are you?"

"No," Edward said. "No I'm not."

"Were you? Before we met?" Ellen's expression changed from curiosity to a softer look. "You seem sad sometimes. Did you have a bad break up or something?"

Or something. How was it a teenage girl who'd known him for less than six months could see what two trained psychologists who had treated him for years couldn't? Jon would be almost amused by this-Jon would never meet her. "Ellen," he said. "That's not a conversation I want to have with you just yet."

Ellen for once, seemed to accept this. "Ok."

Edward sighed in relief. He chuckled a bit despite himself. "You think I'm sad and you automatically assumed that it was because of my love life?"

"Whenever my friends are upset, it's usually because of some boy. Or girl. Or both."

"Now I know you're in high school. And frankly, your friends should spend more time on homework than on soap operatic nonsense."

Ellen rolled her eyes. "Says the guy who used to dress up in spandex and fight a guy dressed up like a Bat. Us high schoolers got nothing on you, Old Man."

Edward gave her a stern look. "Ellen, I thought we agreed never to talk about my spandex again."

"I still have nightmares about it, Old Man. You owe me therapy."

"Well, you're the one who looked up my online encyclopedia entry. You should have known what would come up."

Ellen mock-shuddered and Edward was about to make another pithy comment when a creeping sensation went up his neck. He turned around, scanning the mob of people behind them. Someone was watching him. Ellen looked at him, confused.

"Pops? What's up?"

Edward couldn't see anyone suspicious, or even anyone making eye contact. "Nothing, he said finally. "Let's keep walking."

Ellen looked behind them, then did as he said. "You're acting weird. Well, I mean more than usual. What's going on?"

"Ellen, I'm a former super villain. How 'normal' do you expect me to be?" There was that sensation again. He whirled around again. This time, he just saw someone disappearing behind a kiosk. He narrowed his eyes. He was being followed. Another one of the Rogues would have announced themselves by now and he didn't think Batman and his assorted menagerie would follow him around in daylight like this. An over eager journalist? Someone he'd crossed in the past who wanted their pound of flesh? Strange?

"Pops?"

Edward came back to his senses. Ellen. "Do you see that clothing store up ahead?" He pointed to a shop a few hundred feet down from where they were standing. Ellen looked at it, then back at her father.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Go to it. Right now. Don't look back."

Ellen didn't budge. "Why? Where are you going? What's going on?"

Just or once, couldn't she do as she was told. "I'll meet you there. Go."

Ellen looked back towards the kiosk, then her eyes widened. "Whoa. Is someone following us?"

"I don't know," Edward answered. "I'm going to look into it. Get out of here."

Ellen set her jaw. "I'm not leaving-"

Edward's patience was at an end. He leaned down and grasped her shoulder. "Do _not_ argue with me Ellen. _Get out of here._ "

Ellen shrank back slightly, then reluctantly started to walk ahead. Once he was certain she was out of the immediate vicinity, Edward walked back towards the kiosk. So far, no one had revealed themselves yet, but he kept a firm grip on his cane. This was why he didn't want to be in such an open area with Ellen. This was exactly why. He took a deep breath, then rounded the kiosk. No one was there. He took a quick look around, then walked a few feet. He was now in a back alley way behind one of the store fronts. It was empty. Edward scowled. Whoever had been following them had disappeared. If anyone had been following them at all. Edward shook his head and walked back towards the main drag. He'd been spending too much time with Lonnie.

* * *

Once Nigma had left the alley, Stephanie stepped out from where she and Damian had pressed themselves against a building. For someone who supposedly had little memory of their past, Nigma's criminal instincts still seemed pretty sharp. She let out a breath. "That was too close."

"It's your fault Brown," Damian groused. "I told you we were getting too close! Don't you know anything about tracking?"

Stephanie bit her tongue. "Damian, we've been following them for over an hour. So far, the worst we've seen them do is make fun of the mannequins. Can we get back to shopping now?"

Damian made a face. "Not a chance. I would have thought that you of all people Brown would want to keep an eye on him."

Stephanie sighed. Frankly, she wouldn't mind never seeing Nigma again. She had to admit though, she was curious about his daughter. Where had she come from? And why did she want anything to do with her father? "10 more minutes. If nothing happens, I'm ditching you and going back to shopping."

Damian rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

* * *

It didn't take Edward long to track Ellen down. He saw her red pigtails in the clothing boutique before he saw the rest of her. She relaxed slightly when she saw him enter. "Well?" she asked.

"Everything's fine. If someone was trailing us, I couldn't find them."

Ellen huffed. "Paranoid Old Man. Scared me for nothing." She turned her attention to the mannequin on display and scrunched up her face. "That's the ugliest coat I've ever seen. Who'd pay $200 for that?"

Edward bit his tongue at the paranoid crack and walked up beside her to survey the mannequin. It was wearing a large, almost comically puffy dark tan winter coat. Clearly, it was meant more for comfort than style. "Someone who doesn't want to freeze to death, I imagine." He cast a critical look at Ellen's own coat. It was a faded turquoise color that had seen better days. Edward couldn't believe she wasn't freezing in that. "Frankly, you could use a jacket like that. With how much I'm paying your grandmother in child support, she could at least get you more appropriate winter attire."

Ellen's face darkened. "Gramma takes care of me just fine," she ground out. "This was my Mom's coat. I'm not getting rid of it."

Edward raised an eyebrow. "Your filial piety is touching, but I doubt your mother would approve of freezing yourself to death in that rag."

Ellen rolled her eyes. "Whatever Old Man. I'm not getting rid of it."

Edward sighed. "I'm not saying you should. I'm just saying you need something warmer. It's going to be 20 degrees tonight." He reached up to brush lint off of her shoulder. "And something cleaner. When was the last time you used a lint roller on this?"

Ellen swat his hand away. "Blah, blah blah." As she turned to go elsewhere in the shop, something outside the window caught her attention. "What the fuck?"

"Ellen!" Edward scolded. "Language!"

Ellen grabbed his arm. "Pops," she said, pointing towards the window. "Look!"

Edward looked to where she was pointing and almost dropped his bag in shock. "Well," he said, recovering quickly. "That's something you don't see every day."

Outside the store, walking down the main stretch, was a for lack of a better term, demonic figure. It was tall, wearing what Edward hoped was a dark haired costume and dragging a large sack behind it. In it's other hand it carried a length of chain. The figure's face was obscured by a demonic mask, with goat's horns rising out of the stop. The mask was open faced, with fangs displaying in a grimace. Besides him, Ellen shrank back. "What is that thing?"

Edward rubbed his chin. "That Ellen, would be a Krampus, I believe."

Ellen cocked her head. "What the Hell's a Krampus?"

"Ellen, language. A Krampus is a figure from Alpine tradition, a sort of goat demon. He's a companion of Santa Claus, only instead of giving bad children coal, he takes them away."

Ellen seemed to relax a bit at this explanation. "Ok. What's it doing here?"

Edward was almost amused by how nervous Ellen was. "Probably just some reveler with too much time on his hands. Nothing to be concerned about-" Edward cut himself off when he saw the Krampus reach into his bag and pull out an automatic rifle. "Oh Hell."

Not for the first time and not for the last, the sound of gunfire filled Jezebel Center.


	12. Christmas in Gotham, Finale

"Wonderful," Damian complained as he surveyed the crowd of shoppers. "Now we've lost them."

Stephanie paid no attention to him, looking instead at a window filled with novelty action figures. There was one of Dick that he'd laugh at. "Relax," she said. "We tailed them for over an hour and nothing happened."

"Knowing Riddler, that's what he wanted us to think."

Stephanie took a deep breath. "Damian, you've never even fought Nigma. By the time you showed up in Gotham, he was still in a coma. I actually lived with the guy for a bit. Trust me, he's not that subtle. If he were up to something, we'd know it."

Damian didn't look convinced, but stopped looking. Stephanie was about to suggest going to find a place that sold hot chocolate, when the sound of gunfire broke out. Screams soon followed. Stephanie was almost swamped by a crowd of people running away from the gunfire. She pulled out her phone and dialed a number. "Oracle," she said as soon as she picked up. "There's gunfire at Jezebel Center. Damian and I are here. We'll take care of it."

 _"I'll tell Bruce and Dick. Be careful."_

Stephanie hung up and pulled out her knapsack. Besides her, Damian gave her a patronizing look. "I'd say we know it now, don't you?"

"Suit up half-pint."

* * *

Edward had dived down on the floor even before the Krampus began shooting. Amnesia didn't hold a candle to pure instinct. He lay on the ground for a few minutes, until he was certain that the Krampus hadn't entered the store. As his ears stopped ringing, he became aware of a mass underneath him. A mass that was moving and talking.

"Get off Old Man," Ellen groaned. "You're crushing me."

Edward blinked for a second, then he remembered. He'd grabbed Ellen on his way down. He'd shielded her. He carefully got up, loosening his grip around her. It seemed that when danger presented itself, he did possess a paternal instinct. He didn't have much time to dwell on it though. "Stay down," he whispered to Ellen. He slowly got up to get a better look out the storefront window. The Krampus was still there, his back turned on the store they were in, waving his gun at the cowering masses outside.

"Wallets, purses and phones in the sack!" Edward heard him shout, his voice muffled by the mask. "Give offerings to the Krampus, the Demon of Christmas!"

The Demon of Christmas indeed. What a farce. Didn't it just figure, the one day Edward decided to behave decently and attempt to bond with his daughter would also be the one day some nitwit got it into their head to try and be the next great costumed Rogue. Edward was only surprised it took so long to see someone try the Krampus theme. Well, he was in no mood to witness these shenanigans. He got back down on his hands and knees and slowly crawled towards Ellen. She looked at him expectantly.

"What do we do?" she whispered.

Edward pointed towards the back of the store. "There should be an exit in the back. We'll go that way and make our way to the staircase."

"Aren't you gonna try and fight him off?"

Edward resisted the urge to laugh, then he realized that she was being serious. "Child," he said. "I have been many things in my life, but one thing I have never and will never be is a hero." Another burst of gunfire sounded, as if demonstrating his point. "And in any case, you're too young to be an orphan. Let's go."

Ellen didn't need to be told twice and she scooted quickly towards the back. The few other customers that had been in the shop had the same idea and Edward could hear them exiting the back door. Almost there. Just as the door was in sight, a strangled cry came from the storefront.

"Mommy!"

In front of him, Ellen froze. She turned towards the window. Edward turned to see what she was looking at. The Krampus apparently decided to live up to his namesake, for he had a tight grip on a little boy. He kept one hand firmly on his gun. "Nobody make any moves! We're leaving!" The boy let out a keening wail.

"What's he going to do to that kid?" Ellen asked.

Edward shrugged. "Use him as a bargaining chip, probably. Fairly standard for would-be rogues. It's not our problem."

"Not our problem?" Ellen asked. "He's gonna hurt that kid! We need to do something!"

"Ellen," Edward asked, as measured as he could given their present circumstances. "Do you have super powers that you've neglected to tell me about?"

Ellen looked up at him with a confused look on her face. "...No?"

"Do you have a gun?"

Ellen seemed to get where he was going, if her face falling was any indication. "...No."

"Do you have any specialized martial arts training?"

Ellen didn't respond to this last question, which was a enough of an answer for Edward. "But that kid-"

"Unfortunate, but neither of us are in a position to do anything about it. We'd only get ourselves injured or killed." One question suddenly appeared in Edward's mind. "How exactly did you stop that deli robbery a few months back?"

"I snuck up behind the guy and hit him with a jar of pickles."

For a long moment, Edward said nothing, instead staring at his daughter and wondering how she was still alive. "I...don't think that approach will work here."

The child outside let out another piercing cry. "Mommy!"

Ellen winced. "What about your cane? Don't you have some kind of gizmo in it?"

"Not this one. It's just a standard cane. Listen Ellen," he said, with a practiced gentleness. "I know this is difficult, but Batman or one of his assorted minions should be along any moment. They can help the child. The best thing for us to do is get clear of here."

Ellen chewed the bottom of her lip, looking between the back exit and the storefront. Finally, she seemed to agree with him and turned toward the exit, when a woman's voice sounded. "No! Please! Someone help! Don't let him take my baby!"

Ellen hesitated, then her jaw set. She got up to her feet and before Edward could grab her and pull her back, she was running towards the storefront. Edward was quick to follow. "Ellen!" he hissed out. "Don't be stupid! Get back here!"

Ellen made no sign that she even heard him. She grabbed a coat hanger from a rack and opened the front door. The Krampus still had his back to her. Ellen froze for only a second, before she bellowed at the top of her lungs, "Come get some, you piece of Christmas shit!"

The Krampus barely turned before Ellen set herself on him, aiming the coat hanger at his head. Given that he had nearly a foot on the girl, she only succeeded in striking his shoulder. Edward doubted he felt any pain underneath that costume. His grip on the boy loosened enough though that the child was able to flee back into the open arms of his mother. Which was fortunate for the child, but rather unfortunate for Ellen, who now had the undivided attention of the Krampus.

"You're a naughty little girl," he growled out. Ellen swung the coat hanger at him again, but he caught it in one hand and ripped it from her. "Do you know what happens to naughty little girls?"

Ellen kicked at his crotch. "Eat shit, you freak!"

The Krampus laughed and grabbed her by the collar, lifting her off the ground. A spark seemed to go off in Edward's gut. _That's my daughter._

"Naughty little girls get taken away by the Krampus!"

For the rest of his life, Edward would never be able to recall the next few seconds. All he knew was that one moment he was standing in the store's doorway, watching as a costumed goat demon manhandled his daughter. The next the Krampus was on the ground and Ellen was watching with wide eyes as Edward swung his cane down on the man over and over again, hitting every exposed part of him he could see. A voice Edward barely recognized as his own was yelling out, punctuating the blows. "THAT'S MY DAUGHTER YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

The Krampus had dropped the gun and was now desperately holding his arms up in an effort to shield himself. "Jesus Christ! Stop! Stop!"

Edward didn't stop. He wasn't even capable of rational thought at that point in time. He was breathing heavily and running on nothing but pure adrenaline. He was about to bring the head of his cane down on the man's face when something tackled him. Out of the corner of his eye, his saw a purple blur helping Ellen up and pulling her to the side. He attempted to pull himself to his feet and get to her when the figure that had tackled him pulled one arm behind his back and pressed him down into the ground.

"Stay down, Riddler!"

His old alias brought Edward back to his senses. He craned his neck back and stifled a curse when he saw a costumed child on top of him. Robin. He should have guessed. He looked back to where Ellen was and recognized the blonde figure beside her as Batgirl. "Well, it's about time you showed up," Edward groused. "Now, would you mind getting off me?"

Robin wrenched his arm further back and Edward hissed in pain. "Give me one good reason why I should."

The Krampus gave him a good reason by getting back up and reaching for his gun. "The Riddler, huh?" he wheezed. "I'll take out Robin, Batgirl and a Rogue! I'll be famous after this!"

Batgirl pulled a Batarang out of her belt and threw it at the Krampus, knocking the gun out of his hands. He barely had a moment to react before Robin finally deigned to release Edward and launch himself at the Krampus, driving his fist into his gut. The Krampus fell with a grunt and Robin continued to rain punch after punch onto his face and torso. Edward got up then and looked at the scene with just a hint of pity for the Krampus. This Robin was a much more savage fighter than any he had any memory of going up against. Finally, the Krampus raised his hands up. "I give up! I give up! Please, get this kid off of me!"

"Robin!" Batgirl shouted. "Enough!"

Robin took one last stomp on the Krampus before doing as Batgirl requested. " _tt._ Coward." Robin turned his attention back towards Edward and Edward felt his stomach drop. "As for you-"

"Leave him alone!"

Ellen left Batgirl's side and stepped between Edward and Robin. "This wasn't my Dad's fault! He was just trying to protect me!"

Batgirl looked at the two of them. Her gaze had hardened somewhat when looking at Edward, but had softened at Ellen's words. Edward's own gaze narrowed as he looked at the girl. _I know her. Where have I met her before?_ Finally, she said "You two should get out of here before the cops show. We'll take care of this guy."

Edward gave her a short nod, then went back to pick up the shopping bags he and Ellen had dropped. He felt Robin's gaze on him the entire time. Ellen followed him in silence, accepting one of the bags from him and turning around just once to look at Batgirl. As soon as they descended the back stairs and away from the crowd, Edward rounded on her. "Are you suicidal, or are you just plain stupid!?"

Ellen froze, shocked at the tone in Edward's voice. Now that the danger had passed, Edward was angry. No. He was furious. "Well?" he demanded. "I told you not to get involved! You disobeyed me! You nearly got us both killed! What do you have to say for yourself!?"

Ellen put on a brave face as she looked at her father. "That kid needed help! What was I-"

"Batgirl and Robin would have taken care of it, as I told you they would!"

"You didn't know that! For all you knew, he could have died! I couldn't just stand back and let it happen!"

"Oh yes you could have!" Edward shouted. "You could and should have!" Edward angrily shook his head. "I knew this was going to happen," he muttered. "This was a mistake. I should have never come here! I should have-" he looked back at Ellen and the words died in his throat. Ellen's eyes were watering over and her lower lip trembled.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I know it was stupid. I just wanted to spend some time with you! Please, don't hate me..." She started to cry in earnest then.

Edward was not a man who felt guilt or regret that often. Now though, staring at his daughter, he felt like the worst man that had ever lived. "Ellen," he said. "I didn't mean spending time with you was a mistake. I..." he sighed and placed the shopping bag down. "Come here."

Ellen cautiously walked towards him. He opened his arms slightly and she in turn hugged him tight. He awkwardly rubbed his hand through her hair. "I know I haven't been much of a father to you," he said. "But I almost saw you die tonight. I didn't like that."

"I thought you were gonna kill the guy," Ellen said, her voice muffled by his jacket.

Edward nodded. "If Robin hadn't arrived, I think I might have. Don't scare me like that again." Edward let her remain there for a bit longer, before she pulled away. "Do you want me to take you home?"

Ellen chewed her lip. "Can I stay with you a little longer? Please?"

Edward nodded. "Alright. Just as well, I don't think I want to explain this to your grandmother."

Ellen let out a shaky laugh. "She'd skin you alive."

Edward chuckled a bit, then he realized how dark it was getting. "Come on. I want to show you something."

Ellen followed him in silence as he guided her to one of the older buildings by Jezebel Center. "Where are we going Old Man?"

"You'll see," Edward said. Finally, he opened the door and led her to the rooftop. They were overlooking Jezebel Center now. Edward looked at his watch. 5:59.

"Was this an old hideout of yours or something?" Ellen asked, looking around.

"No," he answered. "But it does give us a good vantage point."

"Of what?"

6:00. "Of this." Right on cue, the glass dome over the Jezebel Center lit up. Red and green lights lit up along side the balconies of the complex, bathing the night in a festive glow. Ellen's jaw dropped at the sight, then her face lit up in a huge smile.

"Wow," she breathed. "It's even cooler than what Marisol said it would be!" She paced about the rooftop, drinking the sight in. "This was totally worth fighting a Krampus."

Edward scoffed. "If you say so."

Ellen looked back up at him and smiled, genuinely. "Thanks Old Man."

Edward felt a smile tug at his face too. Maybe it was worth it. "You're welcome Ellen."


	13. Case File 0026: The Curse of King Tut!

_Frankly, I always assumed that it was only a matter of time until some of the people I've crossed came back to return the favor. Victor Goodman though? He was a bigger challenge than I had anticipated. He forced me to confront certain...truths about myself and my past life. Truths that I thought I'd forgotten..._

 _E. Nigma, Private Investigator_

Gotham City had just been blanketed with a fresh layer of snow, which made Selina Kyle's rooftop trek more difficult than she would have liked. Her catsuit had its advantages in terms of mobility, but it wasn't meant for winter weather. Luckily, she was almost at her destination. Taking care not to slip on the ice, she heaved herself over the railing and onto the rooftop of the Gotham History Museum. She surveyed the rooftop as her boots crunched through the thin layer of snow and ice. No one else was in sight. She smiled. Perfect. She walked to the skylight over the main atrium of the museum and looked down. No one was visible, not even a security guard. She figured as much. The museum was closed Christmas day after all. With a practiced ease, she cut a hole in the glass with the tips of her gloves. After carefully setting aside the glass, she rappelled into the museum with her whip, dropping down onto the floor without making a sound. She dropped her whip down, then carefully walked down the hallway. Ten feet later and a turn to the right, and her eyes lit up like the cat who got the cream. Before her was the crown jewel in the Ancient History world: the King Tut exhibition. The collection had finally stopped in Gotham after years of skipping the city due to the risk of theft by some of its more colorful citizens, most notably a certain riddle obsessed friend of hers. Now that Eddie was firmly entrenched in his role as Gotham's premiere consulting detective, the owners behind the collection felt secure enough to allow the exhibition to visit Gotham. It would be here for two more weeks, before making the journey to it's next stop in Metropolis.

Selina smirked as she entered the special wing. No offense to Eddie of course, but even in his prime, he couldn't hold a candle to her when it came to robberies. It should have been her that really scared the museum board of directors. She scanned the collection, looking for a particular gold falcon pendant that would look stunning on her. There were over 5000 pieces in the collection, surely no one would notice if one piece were to go missing? She just needed to disable the security around the items with a key card she'd lifted from a guard the previous evening and she'd be on her way-

When Selina came to the jewelry exhibition, she stopped dead in her tracks. The cases were open and the jewelry was already gone. Someone had beaten her to it. She frowned, then gripped the whip of her handle tightly. The jewelry was gone, but there was no sign of museum security. Which meant that whoever had taken it must have done so recently. Very recently. As she moved forward, she caught a whiff of a coppery smell. Blood. A noise from the room ahead of her alerted her to the presence of someone else. She jumped up to the ceiling just as a figure walked into the room she'd been in. Without making a sound, Selina looked down as the figure passed underneath her. It was a man, tall wearing a white tunic and a golden Egyptian headmask. Selina raised an eyebrow as she realized who this was. Victor Goodman, alias King Tut. Goodman was carrying a sack with him, no doubt the jewels and trinkets that were Selina's to steal. As he walked directly under her, she caught a few words he was muttering. "Soon...his darkness will be expelled from Gotham once and for all..." Goodman disappeared from the room. Selina waited a minute to ensure that he was gone, before dashing into the room he had emerged from. Selina wasn't two steps into the room before she grimaced at the sight. Before her was the body of a security guard, his throat slit his eyes and mouth still open, peering up at her. She took a step back. Time to get out of here before GCPD showed up.

As she made her way back out into the winter night, she didn't see Goodman. Just as well. Selina paused to consider what she had witnessed. After his initial encounter with Bruce and Eddie, Goodman had done what almost no one who'd been sent to Arkham ever had: he'd quietly completed his rehabilitation and then dropped out of sight. No one had seen or heard from him in nearly ten years. Why was he coming out of retirement now? And just who was he muttering about, 'his darkness will be expelled from Gotham'?

Selina tapped her face with her finger. It seemed like she'd need to pay a visit to a certain detective friend of hers. He'd be interested in this too.

* * *

"This is stupid," Ellen whined for the fifth time in the past twenty minutes.

"No it's not," Edward ground out. "You just need to fully think it through. Difficult for you I know, but at least make an attempt."

Ellen stuck her tongue out at Edward before looking back at the sheet of paper. "In 300 words or less, describe the greatest mistakes of Czar Nicholas II's reign and what he might have done differently." Ellen sulked. "Why do I even have to do homework over Christmas break?"

"That's between you and your teachers," Edward said. "Now, describe Czar Nicholas' mistakes."

Ellen gave her father a dark look, which he shrugged off. "Czar Nicholas was a moron. There. Done."

Edward rolled his eyes. "Oh very good," he said. "Now elaborate on that in 295 words or less."

Ellen groaned again. "I hate history. What do I care about some dead Russian guy?"

"History is a fascinating subject," Edward defended. "Our actions today are influenced by what people have done in the past. We may not even exist as we are today if Czar Nicholas was any competent. Doesn't that excite the slightest bit of intellectual curiosity from you?"

Ellen paused to consider the paper, then responded by blowing a raspberry. Edward felt just the slightest touch of despair. "That you must get from your mother. You certainly didn't inherit that boorishness from me."

Ellen rolled her eyes in return. "I shouldn't have asked you for help. Your worse than all of my teachers combined."

"You have one of the most brilliant minds in Gotham helping you with your history homework. Do you know how much people in this town would be willing to pay for that?"

Ellen shrugged. "If I pay you enough, would you do this for me?"

Edward chuckled. "Not a chance."

Ellen groaned again. "I hate history."

This wasn't exactly how Edward had wanted to spend his Boxing Day, but since he hadn't gotten to see Ellen on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, he felt he owed her. Still, did she have to act as if she were having her teeth pulled out? "Well, would you rather do this now or do this during summer school? Because that's where you're heading if you don't pull this grade up."

Ellen pouted, but this seemed to do the trick as she began writing with gusto. She handed the paper to Edward. "How about that Old Man?"

Edward read over the paper, nodding with approval at what she had written...until he got to the last part. "...And he could have solved all of his problems if he had poisoned his wife and children and started over with a new family." He put the paper down and gave Ellen a disapproving look. "Not a bad idea actually, but try writing something that won't get you sent to the principal's office."

"Am I interrupting something?"

Edward and Ellen turned at the sound of the, to Edward at least, painfully familiar voice. Sure enough, Selina Kyle stood in the doorway of his office, dressed a a short cut red dress that she knew he liked and looking at the two of them with a fond smirk. "Aren't you going to introduce me Eddie?" she asked.

Edward gestured to Ellen. "Ellen, this is my old friend, Selina Kyle. You may know her better as Catwoman. Selina, this is Ellen, my daughter. There. You're introduced. Now-"

"Catwoman?" Ellen interrupted. "Seriously? You're Catwoman?"

Selina smiled a bit indulgently at her. "Indeed I am."

Ellen's face lit up. "Oh my God!" she squeaked. "This is awesome! I've always wanted to meet you! Holy Shit!"

"Ellen!" Edward scolded. "Language!"

"It's alright Eddie," Selina laughed. She walked forward and gave Ellen a pat on the head. Ellen's face flushed as red as her hair. "She's adorable. A regular chip off the old block."

"She is," Edward said. "But somehow I get the feeling that you didn't come over here just to meet her. What are you doing here?"

"Really Eddie?" Selina asked, with a mischievous glint in her eye. The kind of glint that made his stomach bubble with dread. "I can't come over to see how my friend's doing?"

"Oh you certainly can," Edward said. "And you did, three days ago when we met for dinner. What's really going on?"

Selina shook her head. "Alright. You got me Eddie. It's about that heist at the History Museum last night. Did you hear about it?"

Edward would have had to have been dead to have not heard about it. It was the talk of the town. "I do seem to recall hearing about how the Tut exhibition had been robbed. That wasn't you, was it?"

Selina let out an exasperated sigh. "No Eddie, it wasn't me. My excursions don't tend to wind up with dead security guards. I saw who did it though. It was an old friend of yours."

Edward furrowed his brow. This sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. "Go on."

Selina looked at him a touch concerned. "The Tut exhibit Eddie? That's not ringing any bells for you?"

Edward let out an impatient sigh. "Selina, I think we've well established that my memory isn't what it was. Could you please be a bit more specific?"

"Victor Goodman," Selina answered. "King Tut, remember?"

Now Edward remembered. Victor Goodman had been an Egyptologist at the Gotham History Museum before suffering a psychotic break that led him to believe he actually was King Tut. He'd then proceeded to murder members of the board of directors at the museum using riddles from the Book of Aten. Edward recalled breaking out of Arkham to help Batman put Goodman away. He remembered that much at least. "Victor Goodman? He's back in action?"

"Who's Victor Goodman?"

Edward and Selina both looked at Ellen. Edward had almost forgotten she was even in the office with them. "He was a murderer who killed people while ripping off my riddles motif. He also believed he was the Pharaoh Tutankhamen born again. I was pivotal in capturing him about ten years back."

Ellen cocked her head. "Huh. So he's like a mummy? You fought a mummy?"

"No, he's not a mummy, at least he wasn't the last I heard." Edward turned his attention to Selina again. "You're certain it was Goodman?"

"Pretty sure. Goodman wasn't exactly the type to inspire copycats. There's one more thing Eddie: I heard him muttering something about how 'his darkness will be expelled from Gotham once and for all'. Got any ideas who he might have been talking about?"

Only two people Edward could think of fit that bill. One of them was out of town on some Justice League business and the other was himself. "I see. So let me see if I understand you correctly: you think that Goodman's come out of obscurity to settle the score with me?"

"You're the private detective Eddie," Selina said. "Do you have any other explanation?"

No, he didn't. "And you told me this purely out of the goodness of your heart."

"Yes I did Eddie. That, and Goodman managed to get away with some trinkets I was eyeing for myself."

Edward chuckled. "The truth comes out. I take it you want my assistance in tracking him down so you can steal his ill gotten gains for yourself?"

"Clever as always Eddie. Think about it: I get my treasure, you get your face in the news for foiling an old foe of yours. It's a win-win situation."

Edward arched an eyebrow. "How is helping you steal something a win for me?"

"Who says you're helping me steal anything? All you have to do is catch Goodman. If he happened to fence some of the items he stole before you got him, that's hardly your fault now isn't it? What do you say Eddie? It's been too long since we've collaborated on something together."

Edward tapped his fingers on his desk as he thought over Selina's proposition. The last time he had collaborated on anything with Selina, he'd wound up in a birdcage and not being on speaking terms with her for months. It had taken Tetch's abduction of him to mend that rift. Did he really want to go down that road again? Then again, if Selina was right and Goodman was planning to come after him, he was going to have to do something about that. Besides, when was the last case he had that had been anything but the routine wandering wife job? The Brewer case? He needed excitement. He needed a genuine challenge to sink his teeth into. "Against my better judgement," he drawled. "I'll do it. I'll take the case."

Selina smiled. "Good. What should we do first?"

"We should get to the scene of the crime. I should be able to get some valuable clues there. First thing's first though," he gestured to Ellen. "I should get her back to her Grandmother's."

Ellen's face fell. "Oh come on Pops! I'm not a little kid! Can't I check it out?"

"Absolutely not. Now, get your stuff."

Ellen packed up her backpack muttering under her breath all the while. "Boring Old Man. I never get to do anything fun." She walked out of the office sulking all the while. Selina looked at him, looking like she wanted to laugh.

"What?" Edward asked.

"Pops?" she asked.

"A quirk of hers," Edward explained, feeling slightly embarrassed. "I'll meet you by the museum in about an hour."

Selina nodded. "Sure thing...'pops'."

Edward glared. "If you refer to me as that again Lina, I'll phone Gordon and tell him you committed the robbery."


	14. The Curse of King Tut, pt 2

When Edward arrived at the History museum an hour later, he found the front entrance to be cordoned off by the GCPD. Six police cars lined the street in front of the museum, keeping the media and curious onlookers at bay. Edward spotted Selina in the crowd and made eye contact. She nodded and Edward proceeded to the police tape. A uniformed officer saw him and was about to head him off, when Selina's sultry voice beckoned him over.

"Excuse me, officer? What's going on?"

The officer eyed her appreciatively, then walked over to talk with her. Edward watched as Selina worked her charm with a grin. She still had it. Before any other cop could see, he made his way under the tape and into the museum. The lobby was relatively free of police presence. Most of them were probably back in the actual exhibit, or rather, crime scene. Edward clucked his tongue as he took a left and walked down the hallway toward the special exhibition hall. He'd just been in to see the Tut collection himself. Marvelous really. He wouldn't have minded making a run for it himself, if he were still so inclined. It was a pity.

He knew he'd reached the exhibition hall when he saw the crowd of officers. A gurney passed him on the way out of the museum carrying a black body bag. The remains of the poor security guard. He'd made it only a few steps into the exhibition when a familiar face called him out.

"Hey freak!"

Edward narrowed his eyes. Detective Bullock stormed towards him. Edward curled his lips upward in a mocking grin. "Bullock! A pleasure as always."

Bullock's beady eyes narrowed even further at Edward. "Yeah. Sure. This is official police business Nigma! Haul your green ass out of here!"

Edward shook his head. "Tut tut Bullock. Is that any way to treat the man who's going to solve this case for you?"

Bullock's face darkened "Like Hell you are! Now walk out of here or I'll drag you out myself!" Bullock grabbed him by the arm.

Edward stepped back, shoving Bullock's hands away. "Don't touch me," he hissed. At the cautious look of other officers, Edward pulled his composure back together. "This suit costs more than whatever rat hole you live in I'm sure."

"That's enough! Both of you!" Right on cue, Commissioner Gordon stepped out of the exhibit. He gave Edward a disapproving look. Edward in turn tipped his hat at him.

"Afternoon Commissioner!"

"Spare me the pleasantries," Gordon said. "What are you doing here Nigma?"

That was a fine greeting for the man who single-handedly brought down Hamilton Hill. Well, almost single-handedly. "Why, I'm here to offer my assistance of course. I happen to know that the person responsible is-"

"Victor Goodman," Gordon answered.

This actually surprised Edward, not that he'd let it show. "Oh very good Commissioner. What was the tip off? The fact that the Tut Exhibition had been robbed?"

"There was that, and there's this." Gordon stepped to the side and gestured for Edward to look at the wall. A message was scrawled with what Edward quickly realized was the security guard's blood. Charming. It seemed that time hadn't dulled Goodman's viciousness, or theatricality. The message read ATEN HAS RETURNED. Edward tapped his chin as he tried to recollect the particulars of the case. He remembered Aten figuring into it somehow.

"Well then," he said. "If you know that Goodman's back, you should know why I'm here."

"I know what you're about to say Nigma," Gordon said. "And the answer is no."

Edward chuckled a bit and proceeded as if he hadn't heard the other man. "Now, if I remember correctly, and I always do, Goodman targeted members of the museum board of directors. We should-"

"There's no 'we' here, Nigma. I don't want you anywhere near this case."

Edward had expected to encounter some resistance from Gordon and the GCPD, but he hadn't expected the Commissioner to be so adamant about it. "I seem to recall being of great assistance to you the first time Goodman struck. Given the absence of our fine winged friend, my presence on this case is necessary."

"No, it's not," Gordon said. He sighed. "Look Nigma, I appreciate the offer, really, but GCPD will handle things from here. Go home."

Edward's temper began to rise, both from Gordon's stone-walling and from the smug look on Bullock's face. "I see," he seethed. "It was all well and good for you to recruit me when you needed information from me in the Barnes case, but when I freely offer my services, I'm a pariah again!"

Gordon turned to walk back towards the interior of the exhibition. "I don't have to explain myself to you Nigma. You can show yourself out." Bullock walked back up to Edward, stopping just an inch from his face.

"You gonna go quietly freak, or do you need a little help?"

A month or two ago, Edward would have been sorely tempted to rap the knuckle head with his cane. Hell, he still was. Now, though he thought of the ace he had and he smiled. He gave Bullock a shallow bow. "Bullock." He left the police to their work.

Selina was waiting for him by the police tape as he walked out of the museum. "That was quick," she said as he ducked under the tape and rejoined her on the other side. "Did you get what you needed?"

"Hardly," Edward answered. "Gordon personally told me that I'm not welcome."

Selina looked surprised for a brief, then she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. "You son't seem too upset by that Eddie. What's your plan?"

Edward chuckled a bit and adjusted his tie. "Head back to my office, I'll meet you there in about 90 minutes. I've got a doctor's appointment." He left Selina at the museum, looking after him and shaking her head. Unknown to the both of them, another dark haired woman watched as Edward left the scene, her eyes narrowed.

Edward whistled a jaunty tune as he walked down the sparse white hallways of the office building. It had been a bit too long since he'd visited Dr. Young. Hopefully, she'd be in a more cooperative mood than Gordon had been. He stopped in front of her door and rapped the door with his knuckles. "Come in!" he heard her voice sound from the other side of the door. She'd barely finished her sentence before Edward opened the door.

* * *

"Good afternoon Dr. Young!" he called out brightly. Dr. Young only barely looked up at him before turning her attention back to the paperwork she was organizing on her desk.

"Hello, Edward."

The coldness in her tone might have put off anyone else, but Edward was hardly anyone else. "As sociable as ever I see. How was your holiday?"

"I have to leave for GCPD headquarters in ten minutes," Dr. Young said, barely looking at him as she began to place the papers on her desk into a black brief case. "Whatever this is, make it quick."

Right to the point, as always. He had to admit, he liked that about her. Edward grinned. "Riddle me this-"

"Nine minutes, 45 seconds."

Edward pouted. "Spoilsport. Fine. What do you know about Tutankhamun?"

Dr. Young stopped packing and briefly considered this. "A Pharaoh of the Thutmosid dynasty of the New Kingdom period in Ancient Egypt, well known for having the most complete tomb ever found of the Egyptian Pharaohs," she gave Edward a hard look. "And something you're not to be involved in, as per Gordon's orders."

Edward bit back a groan. "Who told you? Bullock?"

"Gordon himself actually," Dr. Young answered. "He called me after he saw you at the museum earlier this afternoon. He thought you might come to me next."

Edward hated when Gordon proved just how well he knew him. "Did the esteemed Commissioner at least tell you why he doesn't want me involved? He does remember that I assisted in putting Goodman away the first time, doesn't he?"

"He does," Dr. Young answered. "That's the problem. Gordon wants to keep the situation as quiet and contained as possible. He's worried that given your flair for the dramatic and your past history with Goodman, this could escalate into a grudge match. And since Batman's not here-"

"Oh Batman, Batman Batman," Edward said. "Is GCPD completely helpless without their pet vigilante? What exactly does Gordon think I'm going to do? I wasn't the one who robbed the museum and killed a security guard!"

Dr. Young gave him an impatient look. "I didn't say that I agreed with him Edward. I'm just telling you what he told me."

Edward bit back a retort. It wasn't her he was angry with after all. "Well," he said more jovially. "Since you don't agree with him-"

Dr. Young returned to packing her case. "No Edward."

Edward pouted. "But-"

"I might not agree with the Commissioner, but I'm not going to go behind his back on this to help you Edward. I'm not risking my career like that."

"I'm not asking you to risk anything for me Dr," Edward said impatiently. "I'm merely asking if you'd be willing to provide me with a little guidance."

"You're asking me to leak information to you," Dr. Young said. "Absolutely not."

Edward crossed his arms. "What happened to us being partners?"

Dr. Young shut her briefcase then looked back up at Edward. "That's for matters regarding Hugo Strange. I didn't agree to share information you with about all ongoing investigations Edward. Unless you think he's somehow connected to Goodman's return."

Edward had briefly pondered that possibility earlier, but he'd written it off. If Strange wanted to goad him by sending old adversaries after him, there were plenty of people he'd think of before Victor Goodman. He couldn't let himself fall into the trap of assuming that Strange was responsible for every little inconvenience that plagued his life. He settled for rolling his eyes at the stubborn doctor. "Fine. I'm more than capable of solving this case on my own. There is another way you can help me."

A look of curiosity came across her face. "Oh?"

"If you can't give me information about the current case, then how about you give me information about the last case?" He looked at the case she held in her hands. "You wouldn't happen to have any information about Goodman in there, would you?"

Dr. Young's eyes flashed. "Anything I have in here regarding Goodman is from his confidential Arkham file Edward! That's a violation of patient privilege!"

Edward raised a finger. "Ah, true, but doctor-patient privilege doesn't apply when the patient presents a serious risk to himself and or others." He rested his hands on the top of his cane and tried not to look too smug at Dr. Young. "I'd say robbing a museum and murdering a security guard waives privilege, don't you?"

A smug look came across Dr. Young's face and Edward felt uneasy. "Perhaps, in which case, one could make the argument that I'd be obligated to share information about Goodman to the proper authorities." She used a particular emphasis on the words 'proper authorities' that grated. "Somehow, I don't think a reformed super criminal turned private investigator counts as a 'proper authority' Edward."

Alright, score one for you Dr. "Perhaps, Dr. But surely, you must have some information you can share without violating privilege."

Dr. Young frowned a bit as she returned to getting ready to leave. "I'm not sure what exactly you want from me Edward. I never treated Goodman at Arkham. He was released before I started there." She took her coat off of the coat rack and put it on. "Besides, I wasn't even out of Medical school when that incident occurred, you should remember more about Goodman than I could ever-" she froze midway through her sentence and turned to Edward with wide eyes. "You don't remember, do you? That's why you're asking me for help, isn't it?"

Edward was afraid of this. Dr. Young was at her most obnoxious when she showed actual concern. "I remember the most important elements. There may be a few inconsequential details that I'm missing."

Dr. Young pursed her lips. "What 'inconsequential details' might those be, Edward?"

Edward let out an annoyed huff. "If I knew that Dr, I wouldn't be here in your office, now would I? Now are you going to help me or not?"

Dr. Young shook her head. "Edward, missing even the smallest detail could get you killed. Maybe Gordon's right. Maybe you should stay out of this."

"Your concern is touching Dr, truly, but I've tangled with worse people than Goodman. At any rate, I'm already involved. I doubt Goodman came out of retirement solely to rob the museum."

Dr. Young hesitated. "You don't know that this is a vendetta," she argued. "If Goodman wanted revenge, he's had plenty of opportunities to take it before now."

"But it's a strong possibility," Edward counted. "Isn't that why Gordon wants me out of the way?" Dr. Young still looked unsure. He almost had her. "Maybe you're right," he said in a softer tone. "Maybe Goodman won't come after me. But if he does, then I'm going to need every bit of information I can get to protect myself. We both know GCPD won't lift a finger to help me."

Dr. Young frowned at him. "If you're trying to manipulate me-"

Edward held up his hands in supplication. "Perhaps just a bit. But you know what I'm saying is the truth."

Dr. Young bit her bottom lip as she considered this. Finally, with a sigh, she opened her case and took out her papers. "You'll be the death of me," she muttered as she thumbed through the stack. Finally, she pulled out a single sheet and handed it to Edward. "This is an official police report of the crimes Goodman committed ten years ago. Gordon faxed it to me before you came in so that I could begin to form a psychological profile of him. You can take it."

Edward tried not to look too victorious as he placed the sheet in his waist coat pocket. "Thank you."

Dr. Young still wasn't pleased by this. "Edward, promise me something."

"If Gordon asks, I'll tell him I got it through my usual channels. Your name won't come up."

"That wasn't what I was going to say," she said. She continued once she had Edward's attention. "Goodman was clever. He was able to use your own modus operandi and your compulsions against you ten years ago. There's a very real chance he could do the same with your amnesia." Her face softened somewhat. "Be careful. Don't directly confront him without letting me know."

Edward averted his gaze. "I'll be fine, Dr." He turned to leave her office, but not before offering her one last quip. "Isn't collaborating fun?"

Dr. Young groaned and waved him out the door. "Goodbye, Edward. Try not to let your ego get the better of you."

"I don't have an ego!" Edward shouted back as he walked down the hall. He pulled the old police report out of his pocket and read it over. He'd have plenty of time to study it before meeting with Selina. It would only be a matter of hours before Goodman was behind bars, Selina made off with her treasure and Edward himself was the toast of the town. What could possibly go wrong?

* * *

Across town, a dark-haired woman arrived home. She'd been out on a long outing. One that had borne fruit. She shut the door behind her, making certain that she hadn't been followed. Once the door was shut, she removed her shoes and walked down the hallway, into an opulent living room. A man sat in an Ottoman chair, watching the news coverage of the museum robbery. "Was he there?" he asked her.

The woman nodded. "It was as you said, my love. Even after all these years, he still couldn't resist poking his nose in. How are you feeling? Did you take your medicine?"

"Yes," the man answered. "I will be ready shortly. Get my mask."

The woman smiled and leaned down to give him a kiss. "Of course, my Pharaoh."

Victor Goodman smiled, a wicked smile. "Very soon, Riddler. Soon, your darkness will be extinguished from this world."


	15. The Curse of King Tut, pt 3

"Suspect's name is Victor Goodman. Ten years ago, he was involved in a series of murders of members of the Board of Directors at Gotham History Museum. He was apprehended and served time in Arkham Asylum before was cleared and released. He's been off the radar since then, until last night, when he robbed the Tut exhibition and murdered a security guard. Detectives Bullock and Montoya will take the lead on this case. Goodman is to be considered armed and extremely dangerous. If you spot him, call it in and wait for backup before attempting to arrest him. Any questions?"

One uniformed officer standing in the front of the assembled crowd in GCPD raised his hand. "Is Riddler going to be working with us on this?" A few other officers standing near him let out a disgruntled grumble.

Commissioner Gordon shook his head. "No, and I've already told him to stay off this case. If you encounter him at a potential crime scene, call in Bullock and Montoya immediately. Anything else?"

No one else raised a hand. Gordon nodded. "Good. You all have your assignments. Let's get this guy before anyone else gets hurt." The crowd of officers and detectives dispersed, leaving Gordon with just Bullock, Montoya and Penelope. "Are all of the people on the museum board of directors accounted for?" he asked.

"Everyone who was on the board back then and is still alive has been notified Commissioner," Montoya answered. "So have the senior staff of the museum. All except Leigh Carson. We're still trying to track her down."

"She was the last person Goodman attacked," Penelope added. "If Goodman's trying to finish what he started ten years ago, she's likely his first target."

Gordon nodded. "I agree. Renee, you and Harvey nail down Carson. Let's hope we find her before Goodman does. I want uniformed officers watching all of the other board members who are still in Gotham."

"What about Nigma?" Bullock asked with a sneer.

Gordon gave Bullock a warning look. "Leave him be Harvey. Only detain him if he actively tries to compromise the investigation."

"With all due respect Commissioner," Penelope pointed out, "I still don't think that your word alone is going to keep him from investigating this."

Gordon sighed. "I know. Believe me Dr. Young, I know. If Nigma didn't have this past history with Goodman, I'd actually consider letting him help. As is though, I can't trust that he won't put his own ego above actually preventing Goodman from killing anyone. He doesn't care about collateral damage. Did he try to approach you about the case?"

Penelope bit her lip. "He did. I told him that I wouldn't go behind your back to help him. He gave me every indication that he would investigate though. There's something else you should be aware of: It's possible Commissioner, that Nigma might not fully remember the last time he and Goodman met."

Gordon sighed. "Damn. I didn't even think of that. How much doesn't he remember?"

Penelope shifted. "I'm not sure. I don't think he even knows."

"Great. One more thing to worry about. Well, I'll put a unmarked car in front of his apartment. Just in case. I can't spare anyone to actually tail him though, not that he'd appreciate it. Let's just hope Goodman's not crazy enough to outright attack him."

Bullock snorted. "Maybe we'll get lucky and he and Tut'll kill each other."

It took all of Penelope's training to bite her tongue. Gordon at least looked unamused by this wisecrack. "I certainly hope not Bullock. You and Renee get to work on finding Carson. Is there anything you need from us Dr. Young?"

Penelope shook her head. "Not right now. I'm going to meet with Joan Leland and see if I can get any additional insight into Goodman's state of mind. According to the file you gave me, she was his primary doctor at Arkham. I'll call you if I find out anything."

Gordon nodded. "Thank you. See you later today."

Penelope walked out of GCPD and towards her car. She was looking forward to meeting with Joan, for more than just personal reasons. Ever since Edward had come to her office earlier, she'd had a distinct feeling of unease about this case. That unease had grown when she looked at the case notes in more detail. When she had compared Goodman's past crimes to this latest attack on the museum, something seemed...off.

* * *

"Victor Goodman, alias King Tut, suffered a psychotic break, committed murders while in the guise of Pharaoh Tut, appropriated my riddle motif while doing so, was subsequently apprehended by myself, with some assistance from Batman before he could kill his latest victim, confined to Arkham Asylum et cetera, et cetera." Edward handed the report over to Selina for her perusal. "Ten years ago in a nutshell, my dear."

Selina took the report from his hand and scanned it herself. "What do you think Eddie? That Goodman's picking up where he left off?"

Edward stretched out his arms above his head. "That would be my best guess, yes. Which means we should start with where he left off: Leigh Carson."

"The last person he tried to kill. Makes sense." She reviewed the report and raised an eyebrow."Did he really gouge someone's eyes out? That's just nasty."

"He did indeed," Edward said, booting up his laptop. "And he smothered a person, drowned another and he attempted to bury Miss Carson alive. Quite a brutish fellow. I'm not going to pretend I didn't have my moments, but I was a classier kind of rogue."

Selina scoffed a bit. "Oh yeah Eddie. You were always a perfect gentleman. What about the other museum staff?"

"What about them? Gordon'll have the rest of the GCPD putting them into protective custody right about now. Which leaves me free to get one step ahead of Goodman." He paused as he completed his inquiry into Gotham's voter database. "Hmm. That's interesting."

"What is?"

Edward gestured for Selina to take a look at his computer screen. "According to this, Leigh Carson moved from her previous address about eight years ago. There's no record of her voting anywhere in Gotham since."

Selina shrugged. "She probably wised up and moved out of this city after Tut tried to kill her. We'll just have to track him down some other way."

Edward rubbed his chin. "I suppose so." Carson had been his best lead, he thought. Why did he feel as though he'd forgotten something about her? "We'll see what Goodman's been up to these past ten years. I can't imagine he's been completely silent."

"I wonder what set him off this time," Selina mused. "This report says that last time, he did this because he had some kind of psychotic break. Did he have another one?"

Edward waved a hand dismissively. "Dr. Young can psychoanalyze him after I've brought him in. I'm sure she'll enjoy it too."

"Speaking of which," Selina said. "She just gave this to you? After Gordon told her not to help you? What did you say to her to convince her to do that?"

Edward narrowed his eyes at the computer screen. Goodman really had lived a, if not exemplary life, a quiet one since he'd left Arkham. His tax returns indicated that he'd been working as a park custodian for the past eight years. Quite a fall from being a celebrated egyptologist. No further police reports either. What HAD set him off this time? "I merely told her the truth. That I needed all of the relevant information in order to protect myself from Goodman."

"She bought that? Seriously? And why her of all people?"

Edward typed the keys with a bit more force than necessary. Where was Selina going with this? "I can't help it if she happens to be the one person affiliated with GCPD willing to give me even a modicum of the respect I deserve." Edward briefly looked up from his computer to see that Selina had a smirk on her face. "What?"

"Working that old Eddie charm on her?"

Edward looked back to his screen with a huff. "Please. You make everything sound so tawdry. It's a work relationship. Nothing more."

Selina laughed a bit. "Giving you a police report after the Commissioner himself told her not to help you? That's more than just a work relationship Eddie. She likes you."

"Hardly. She tolerates me at best. Now can we please get back to the topic at hand? If I wanted to gossip about my personal life, I'd have let Ellen stay."

Selina laughed. "All right Eddie. So what's the plan? Hit up Goodman's address?"

Edward shook his head. "No, GCPD will have people all over it by now. We'll need to use a bit more subterfuge in this caper. Let me see if I can dig up a little more information about-" Edward was cut off by the sound of his cell phone ringing. With an irritated sigh, he answered. "Edward Nigma, Private-"

 _"Hey Pops!"_

Edward grit his teeth. "Ellen, for the last time, you are not going to help me on this case-"

 _"Turn on your TV Old Man! That Pharaoh guy just robbed a gambling joint! It's on all the news channels!"_

Edward scrambled to find the remote for the small television he kept in his office. "A gambling joint?" Edward repeated. "What's he playing at? That doesn't fit in with what he did ten years ago."

 _"Search me Old Man. Now can I help out?"_

"Absolutely not," Edward said, hanging up the phone. He finally found the remote in his desk drawer and turned on the television. Sure enough, Vicki Vale was on the screen, in front of a burning building.

 _"This is Vicki Vale, reporting live from Lucky Luigi's card parlor in the heart of Downtown Gotham. Approximately half an hour ago, witnesses reported hearing the sound of screams coming inside the building, just before it erupted into flames. GCPD will not confirm that the owner, Luigi Bianchi, was found murdered inside. Witnesses have reported seeing a man leaving the scene just as the flames broke, shirtless, wearing what appeared to be some kind of headdress. We cannot confirm the identity of this individual, but an anonymous source has claimed it to be none other than Victor Goodman, formerly also known as King Tut."_

Edward furrowed his brow. "A card parlor? What would he want with a card parlor?"

"Eddie!"

Edward looked up at Selina and was almost shocked by the look on her face. "Don't you remember? You tried to rob that place seven years ago!"

Edward stood there watching the broadcast stunned. What the Hell was Goodman up to?

* * *

"It's good to see you again Penelope. I just wish it could be under better circumstances."

Penelope took a sip of her water. "I agree," she said. "We'll have to make time to catch up, but I need your help on this."

Joan nodded. "Have you got the notes from the current case?"

Penelope slid the file she was holding across the table to where Joan sat. Joan opened it up and took a look. "Hmm. Victor's violent tendencies haven't changed I see."

"What was he like when you treated him in Arkham?" Penelope asked. "How long did the delusion persist?"

"Not very long," Joan answered, thumbing through the photographs of the crime scene. For the first few weeks, he kept insisting that he was Pharaoh Tutankhamun, but he also exhibited awareness of his life as Victor Goodman. His original crimes were motivated more by revenge, in my opinion. The psychotic break simply amplified his feelings and instigated his violent actions."

Penelope nodded. "That's the conclusion I came to after reading the old case notes. He did respond to treatment though?"

"In time, after we upped his medication. He was given a clean bill of health two years after he was admitted. I honestly thought we'd never hear from him again."

"And his behavior in Arkham?"

"He was a model prisoner. We had to keep him separated from Edward, of course, but apart from that, there were no issues."

"Had he threatened Nigma?"

Joan shook her head. "No. It was actually the opposite. Edward took great pleasure in reminding everyone who the 'King of Conundrums' was in Gotham. We were afraid he'd try to goad Goodman."

Penelope nodded. That certainly sounded like Edward. "And Goodman never talked about him in his sessions?"

Joan arched an eyebrow. "Penelope, you know I can't divulge what we talked about in our sessions. But no, Edward never came up." She took a sip of her tea. "Why do you ask?"

"Nigma seems to think that Goodman came out specifically to get back at him for what happened ten years ago."

Joan let out a rueful laugh. "Of course he does. Is there any evidence of that?"

"None," Penelope said truthfully. "But he and Commissioner Gordon think it's a possibilty. There's something that's been bothering me about this though. In the previous case, he followed the Hymn of Aten almost like clockwork when he committed his murders. Now? He just slit the guard's throat. The only reference to his past crimes is the message he wrote: Aten has Returned. It feels almost...obligatory. Then there's the fact that he stole the contents of the exhibition. His past breakdown was caused in part by the museum's refusal to allow the exhibition to come to Gotham. Why would he want to prove them right?"

Joan furrowed her brow. Before she could answer, Penelope's cell phone rang. She reached down into her purse next to her to pick it up. "This is Dr. Young."

 _"Doc?"_ Aaron's voice sounded. _"Where are you?"_

"I'm at Dr. Joan Leland's home," Penelope answered. "Why? What's going on?"

 _"Turn on the TV. Goodman just called into GCNN. He's making a statement."_

Penelope turned to Joan. "Turn on the TV! Goodman's about to come on!" Joan quickly did as she asked.

 _"This is Vicki Vale. Just a minute ago, we received word from the studio that Victor Goodman, the suspected murderer of Luigi Bianchi, wishes to make a statement. We're going live back to our studio. Summer?"_

 _"Thank you Vicki. This is Summer Gleason with GCNN. We take you now to Victor Goodman himself. Mr. Goodman? Are you there?"_

There was a slight pause, before a voice began to speak over the airwaves. _"You are mistaken,"_ a man's voice said. It was deep, if a bit unsteady. _"You are not speaking to Victor Goodman. You are speaking to Pharaoh Tutankhamun."_

So the delusion was back again. Penelope exchanged a grave look with Joan as the voice continued. " _I have returned, people of Gotham, to cleanse this city of the darkness that inhabits it and bring you into the light of Aten. I have already reclaimed that which is mine. As such, I shall continue to attack these dens of inequity. Your servants shall not stand in my way."_ He let out a raspy chuckle. _"Nor shall some trifling has been who thinks himself the sphinx. But do not despair my children. I shall not harm you, so long as you stay out of my way."_

The phone line cut off. As Gleason continued her frenzied reporting, Penelope and Joan exchanged another look.

"I think it's safe to say that Edward's right," Joan said. "That was a deliberate provocation."

Penelope swallowed thickly. She knew exactly how Edward would react to this.

* * *

Selina took a step towards Edward after Goodman had finished speaking. "Eddie?" she asked. "Are you OK?" He had watched in rapt attention during the newscast. Now, his face had turned a bright red.

Edward's eyebrow twitched. "A has been? A has been!?" He threw the remote onto the floor, sending the batteries scattering. "I'm not taking that from some rip off artist who couldn't come up with an original gimmick if his life depended on it!"

"Eddie, you know he can't hear you, right?"

"Not the point Selina! He couldn't even be original enough to come up with his own name, he names himself after an inbred teenager with a club foot who married his own sister! I could run circles around him intellectually even when I was in a coma!"

Edward continued on like this for ten minutes, before finally stopping to breathe. Selina gave him a critical look. "Are you done Eddie?"

Edward stomped up to his desk and kicked the wastepaper basket at the side of his desk for good measure. "Yes. I'm done." He winced a bit. "That actually hurt!"


	16. The Curse of King Tut, pt 4

"I think I might have broken my toe!"

Selina tried not to roll her eyes. "Focus Eddie. We need to figure out where Goodman's going to strike next. He's not following his previous pattern."

"Well _obviously_ ," Edward glowered. "What tipped you off, the burning card parlor or the newscast where he defamed me!?"

Selina answered this with a glare of her own, one that made Edward stand straight up. "I don't think I like your tone _Edward_ ," she hissed in warning. "Now stop acting like a sulky brat and start acting like the genius private detective you say you are!"

This seemed to do the trick, as Edward contented himself with a half-hearted glare before sinking down into his office chair. "You're right. Well, you're right about the genius private detective part at least," he clarified. "Now, as I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted, we need to figure out what exactly Goodman's been up to the past eight years. These attacks didn't just come out of nowhere."

"Right," Selina agreed. "He's got to have been planning this for awhile."

"Exactly." Edward paused, drumming his fingers on his desk in thought. "When you were scoping out the museum for your own purposes," he asked, "Did you by chance happen to see him?"

Selina looked intently at the photo of Goodman included in the police report, thought for a moment, then shook her head. "I don't think so. He looks pretty generic without the Egyptian get-up though. Are we sure he's not working with anybody else?"

"Goodman worked solo last time. I don't think that's likely to have changed. He's had no run ins with the law, no meetings with any other known criminals…" Edward leaned back in his chair. "It's almost as if one day, he really did just decide to walk away from everything and go back to being a rogue." Why? Once a rogue, always a rogue? Had he hated Edward so much he was willing to walk away from the life he'd rebuilt for himself, meager as it was? Or had he simply gotten bored? If it was so easy for Goodman to go back…

Edward was interrupted from his musings by a hand on his shoulder. He looked up into Selina's understanding gaze. "Eddie," she said. "You and I both know it's never that easy."

Edward shrugged her off. "I suppose not. So, he's been lying low for the past eight years, until the day after Christmas, he robs the museum and then he robs a card parlor-" Edward stopped when he remembered what Selina had said earlier. "…Wait. Selina, you said that I robbed that card parlor once?"

"You tried," she corrected. "Batman caught you before you could pull it off."

"Of course he did." Edward rubbed his chin in thought. "Let me see that police report again." Selina handed it over to him and Edward began to pore over the contents. "…Goodman was angered that the museum wouldn't let the Tut exhibition because of fear that I would rob it."

"And then Tut himself robs it," Selina finished. "Then for his second robbery, he targets a place that you tried to rob. What's his game? Is he trying to goad you?"

Edward took a breath. "It's more than that I think," he said. "By succeeding where I failed, he's trying to prove that he's the better rogue than me."

A moment of silence passed between the two. Finally, Selina let out a halfhearted chuckle. "Sounds like Tut's got a serious complex about you."

Edward puffed up a bit. "Well, why wouldn't he? I am the most brilliant mind in Gotham after all."

Selina rolled her eyes. "Well Mr. 'Most Brilliant Mind in Gotham' any idea where he's going to strike next?"

Edward felt his smug smile drop. "Well…hmm." As painful as it was to admit, he did have a rather long string of failed heists under his belt. Taking into account the years that had passed and his own spotty memory…this could be a bit difficult. "First things first: if he's targeting places from my past, he must have done his research. He was an Egyptologist after all, research is what they do. I wonder…"Edward pulled up the Gotham City's library database and entered Goodman's name. His eyes narrowed as he found what he was looking for. "Ah ha!"

Selina looked over his shoulder at his computer screen. "Looks like Goodman's been checking out a lot of news files in the past year," she said "but how exactly does looking at his library check out history help us find him?"

Edward chuckled a bit. "Really Lina, you've been spending too much time with Harley and Ivy. We've already established that Goodman attacked the card parlor because it was a place I had failed to rob. How exactly did he know that?"

Selina's eyes lit up in understanding. "He couldn't get a hold of your police record without getting attention from the GCPD, so he's been checking out old news clippings of your past robberies. So by checking the date-"

"We can determine where he'll strike next!" Edward finished for her.

Selina smirked a bit. "Not bad Eddie, but that still leaves us with a lot of ground to cover. We need a shortcut."

"Luckily, Goodman already supplied us with one," Edward said as he opened another window on his browser. Within moments, he'd pulled up his old GCPD file. "Goodman said that he would continue to attack these 'places of iniquity'. I think we can assume that rules out the museums, banks and the more high end places I frequented. Not to mention that GCPD will be swarming those locations by now. Goodman's going to want a bit more privacy." Edward spent a minute cross referencing the dates on the clippings Goodman had checked out with dates on his old file. One match stood out in particular. "This one," he said pointing at the screen.

Selina peered at the screen. "Maxie Zeus' old nightclub? That just got shut down six months ago. Are you sure?"

"It fits," Edward argued. "It was seedy, it was a place I regrettably tried my hand at and there shouldn't be much police presence there. Besides, just because it's been shut down to the public doesn't mean Zeus doesn't still have equipment or other things Goodman might like to appropriate."

Selina's eyes narrowed a bit. "If you're right, then this smells like a set up. Let's go back to my place to get my gear first."

Edward winced a bit. "Harley and Ivy won't be there, will they?"

* * *

Almost as soon as Goodman had stopped speaking on the news, Penelope reached across the kitchen table to grab the case file from Joan. She thumbed through it, looking for any connection between Goodman and that card parlor.

"Goodman never attacked that place before now," Joan said, as if knowing what Penelope was thinking.

Penelope placed the file down with a sigh. "But Nigma did once, didn't he?" Goodman was fairly transparent in goading Edward in his call to the news. Attacking his old targets would fit into that pattern, but that would mean that Edward had been right all along. That Goodman had come out after almost a decade of silence to antagonize him. Why?

"I'd need to look into his files to be sure, but I wouldn't be surprised."

Penelope brought one hand to her face. Either Goodman had done thorough research, or more disturbingly, he'd been keeping an eye on Edward since he'd been released. "Which means that the next place he attacks could be any number of targets in Gotham." Penelope got up, grabbing her purse from where it rested by her chair. "I have to talk to Gordon." And she had to talk to Edward. His own stubborn pride be damned, he was in real danger. Even if Gordon couldn't be convinced to let him work this case with GCPD, he couldn't be allowed to continue on by himself.

Joan got out of her chair. "I'll come with you."

Penelope gave her former mentor a small smile. "Thank you Joan." Something told her she'd need all the help she could get convincing Edward to step back.

Joan had just left the kitchen to get her coat when Penelope's cell phone rang again. "This is Dr. Young."

 _"Did you see that?"_

Commissioner Gordon. "Yes," she said. "Dr. Leland and I are on our way in now."

 _"Good. I'm calling Bullock and Montoya back into GCPD. We need to get a lead on Goodman before Nigma does."_

Penelope gulped a bit. "Understood. We'll see you in a few minutes." She hung up her phone just as Joan re-entered the room. "We need to go to GCPD," Penelope said, putting her phone back into her purse. "But first, we should go to Nigma's office."

Joan raised an eyebrow. "No offense Penelope, but if he didn't listen to Gordon this morning, he's not going to listen to us now. Goodman's just attacked his most vulnerable area: his ego. He's not going to just ignore that."

"I know," Penelope nearly snapped. "But Goodman's probably obsessed with him and has the advantage of fully remembering what happened ten years ago! Edward could be walking right into a trap!"

Joan's eyes widened a bit in surprise. "Edward, Penelope?"

Penelope realized that she'd called Edward by his first name in front of Joan for the first time. She became painfully aware of the fact that she might be losing objectivity. "Never mind," she said. "We need to go."

Twenty minutes later, the two psychiatrists were outside Edward's locked, empty office. Penelope felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. They were too late. _What do you know Edward?_ she thought. _Where did you go?_

* * *

Edward parked his car just outside of the boarded up nightclub. Maxie Zeus had opened it years ago, as a front for his smuggling operations. Edward dimly recalled trying to pull a job on it, only for Zeus himself to soundly thrash him before Batman had even gotten there to foil his plan. Needless to say, when Zeus had his breakdown Edward hadn't shed any tears. The club had continued on after Zeus' incarceration to diminishing returns until it had finally shuttered six months ago. The windows were boarded up with plywood, the lightning bolt shaped lights that adorned the outside of the building dimmed. When lit at night, they gave off a neon blue glow that just thinking about made Edward's eyes hurt. Still, Edward though as he surveyed the building, he'd be shocked if Zeus' old criminal associates weren't still using the building as a base of operations. There were no other cars parked nearby, which made him relieved, but also a bit on edge. It wasn't even three yet, why was this street so empty?

Beside him, Selina unbuckled the passenger seat belt and prepared to get out of the car. The visit back to her place for her to suit up and get her gear had been uneventful and thankfully, Harley and Ivy free. Edward was still getting comfortable with Selina's renewed presence in his life, he wasn't prepared for Harley's big, pleading eyes. "Just the two of us, about to start a caper." She turned and flashed him a sly grin. "Brings back some fond memories, doesn't it Eddie?"

"Memories, yes. Fond, not so much. I seem to recall the last time we started a caper, I wound up being attacked by animals and imprisoned in a cage."

Selina scoffed. "God, you're never going to let that go, are you Eddie? Come on. You remember that job we did together at the Diamond Exposition back in '94?"

He did actually. It was the first caper he'd pulled with Selina as a matter of fact. He'd lent her his expertise in disabling the security system while she slipped in and stole a gorgeous blue diamond. He remembered it had been the first time he'd ever pulled a heist without Query and Echo and the synergy he felt with Selina had been electric. They'd gone back to her apartment after getting their pay from the fence, he remembered. He remembered the wine bottle they'd shared. They were young and the game was still fun. It hadn't quite taken it's toll yet. He remembered her stealing a kiss from him as they both were giddy on their success. He remembered quite a few other things from the night. He remembered waking up alone, wrapped in satin sheets with her half of the take gone and a note. Which summed up their relationship quite well, he thought. Edward shook his head slightly. If he and Selina had had a moment where something more might have developed, it had long since past. Edward didn't think he could ever open up to someone like that again. "We did have some fun times together, didn't we?"

Selina smiled at him then and Edward remembered why even after everything, he still had a soft spot for her. "We will again," she said, "Starting with bringing in Goodman. What do you think? Should I scope out the building first, or do you want to go in together?"

Edward considered it for a moment. "Goodman may be planning an ambush for me," he said. "But I doubt he'll be expecting you. I'll go in through the front, you find another way in to preserve the element of surprise."

"And if he's not here?"

"He'll be here," Edward answered. Selina didn't look entirely convinced. "If he's not," he added, "There are a few other leads we can follow up on. But let's just assume for now that he's here."

Selina nodded, opened the passenger door and walked around to the side of the building. Before Edward followed suit, he thought about what Dr. Young had asked of him that morning. Be careful. Don't directly confront him without letting me know. He had her cell phone number, not that she knew that. He dismissed the thought out of hand. As she said, they were collaborators as far as the Hugo Strange business went. If she didn't see the need to share details about other cases with him, then he was under no obligation to report back to her. He got out of the car and made his way to the front door of the nightclub.

Once at the door, he spent a few minutes staring at it, looking for any signs of a booby trap. Holding his cane out, he gently pushed the top of it against the door. The door opened slightly. Edward pushed on it with a bit more force and the door opened inwards, revealing a darkened room on the other side. With one last look around him to make sure he wasn't about to be ambushed, Edward entered, shutting the door behind him.

The room he was in he vaguely recognized as the main floor of the old nightclub. The carpet had been largely torn out, though Edward could still make out patches of a gaudy maroon fabric. Zeus couldn't match Oswald in terms of classy decor. Most of the furniture had been removed, save for a single table and a few chairs set in the far left corner of the room. In the darkness, he could just make out a figure sitting in a chair, slumped over the table. He cautiously approached the figure. As he came up behind the what he now could make out as a man, he picked up the unmistakable coppery smell of fresh blood. He saw a dark puddle under where he thought the man's throat would be. Goodman was here. He was sure of it.

Before Edward could investigate the corpse further, the lights in the room came on. "I thought I might see you here."

Edward turned to the voice. By a open space leading back to a private room, there stood a man, dressed in a white tunic. His right hand was by a control panel on the wall and in his left hand, he carried a hook shaped implement. Edward assumed it was part of his Egyptian get also took note of the blood that covered the top of it. The man's head was bare and bald and his dark brown eyes started intently at Edward. He was thinner than Edward remembered, but this was unmistakably Victor Goodman. Edward let a smug grin come to his face. He did so love to be proven right. "No fanfare Goodman?" he asked. "I'm almost offended. Or excuse me, would you prefer to be addressed as Pharaoh?"

Goodman's eyes narrowed at him. "Still as impertinent as always I see. I thought perhaps you would have matured with age."

Edward let out a chuckle. He wouldn't let Goodman get a rise out of him. "Says the person who went on television to goad me not three hours ago? I think you're about the last person who should be lecturing anyone about maturity."

"I wanted to see if your mind was as sharp as it was ten years ago. It seems sharper even. You didn't need Batman to find me this time."

"Well what can I say? It will take a greater mind then yours to fool me. And I didn't need Batman last time either, thank you very much." When Goodman didn't step towards him, Edward took it as a sign to approach him. He did so slowly, with a firm grip on his cane. "You know, if you simply wanted a rematch you could have just called me. No need for such theatrics Victor."

"I don't want a rematch, Riddler." Goodman said. "I simply want to repay you for what you did to me all those years ago."

Edward paused about three feet from Goodman. "Oh? And just what did I do to you then that merited all of this?"

Goodman's eyes flashed and he continued as if he hadn't heard Edward. "What I want," he said in a deep, deliberate tone of voice. "Is your complete and total humiliation. I want to erase you from history and show this city just what an obsolete fool you are. Then and only then Riddler, will I cleanse your darkness from this city once and for all." He pressed the second button on the control panel and the floor opened under Edward's feet. Oh right. Zeus had a trap door set up in the main room. He'd used that on him the last time he'd robbed this place-the next instant, Edward felt himself falling until he hit the floor under him, hard. He lay on his back, winded staring back up at Goodman, who was looking down at him with a predatory smile. Well. He really should have seen that one coming.


	17. The Curse of King Tut, pt 5

It didn't take long for Selina to find the back entrance into the worn down nightclub. It took even less time for her to get into the building, for the back entrance was already unlocked. She frowned as she cautiously pushed the door open. Either the current occupants were completely careless, or this was a set up. Selina walked into a dark room, her right hand on the handle of her whip and her left hand gingerly feeling the wall for a light switch. After a few seconds, she found one and flicked the switch.

The lights turned on and Selina realized she was in the old kitchen. The room was clean and bare, the old kitchen fixtures having been moved or discarded. Selina shut the door behind her and slowly, as quietly as she could, made her way through the kitchen. She thought she heard the sound of a door opening and relaxed when she realized that it was probably Eddie, making his way through the front door. She kept her eyes open though. As she moved towards the door that led to, presumably, the old dining room of the nightclub, she thought about the case so far and frowned. Eddie was convinced that Goodman was working alone, but Selina wasn't so sure. The museum robbery? That could have been done solo. Selina had committed several similar robberies alone. The amount that had been taken from the exhibition however...either Goodman had made return trips, or there'd been at least one other person helping him carry the stolen goods out in a way that prevented any damage. Then there was the matter of the murder and arson at the casino. Again, it was theoretically possible Goodman had done that alone. The kind of planning he'd had to put into that though, not to mention the news cast...Goodman had a partner. Selina was sure of it. Eddie, on the other hand, was convinced that Goodman was working alone, simply because he had worked alone last time.

Selina sighed. As clever as Eddie was, once he had become convinced on a particular course of action or on a singular idea, it could be next to impossible to dislodge him from it. He was arrogant and stubborn to a fault and it had always been his downfall as a rogue. Selina just hoped it wouldn't be his downfall as a PI too.

Selina had exited the kitchen by now and was making her way through the old dining room. The tables and chairs had been long cleared, as had the carpet. The light fixtures had been removed as well, leaving the little sunlight that shone through the boarded up windows the only illumination. The only sound Selina heard was the sound of her own boots walking across the wooden floor. Selina carefully scanned the room as she walked. There were two staircases that led up to VIP balcony seating that overlooked the old main hall of the club. Selina decided to make her way up the staircase to her right. That would offer her a vantage point in case of an ambush. She hoped that Eddie had stayed put in the main room.

 _"I thought I might see you here."_

Selina pressed her back against the wall when she heard the voice. It was deep and unfamiliar to her and sounded like it was coming from the main room just below the balcony. Another voice, lighter in tone and dripping with smarm reached her and she relaxed. _"No fanfare Goodman? I'm almost offended. Or excuse me, would you prefer to be addressed as Pharaoh?"_

Sounded like Eddie and Goodman had found each other. Selina carefully looked over the balcony. Standing by an open space to the left was a man dressed in a white linen loincloth that could only be Goodman. Eddie was standing just a few feet to the right. Selina's eyes narrowed as she watched their conversation unfold. Just do me a favor and don't approach him Eddie.

Eddie took a few steps toward Goodman. Damn it Eddie. Eddie paused just in front of Goodman and the man's next words chilled Selina to the bone. _"What I want is your complete and total humiliation. I want to erase you from history and show this city just what an obsolete fool you are. Then and only then Riddler, will I cleanse your darkness from this city once and for all."_

Goodman raised his hand to the wall just outside of Selina's line of sight, and she watched as Eddie dropped out of sight with a yelp. She stifled a curse and quickly rushed down the stairs. Not even ten minutes and Eddie had landed himself in trouble.

* * *

"I must confess, I'm a bit disappointed. I would have thought you remembered that trap door."

Edward staggered to his feet and glared up at the smug Goodman. "Your amnesia isn't just a smoke and mirrors act then," Goodman continued. "Or maybe, you've never been as clever as you say you are."

With those words, Edward lost any composure that might have remained. "At least I could come up with an original name and gimmick!" he hissed out.

Goodman's face darkened. "A gimmick?" he repeated. "You still think that this is all a big game, don't you? Life is just a game to to you, isn't it? And people are pawns. The dreams you've stolen, the lives you've destroyed, they have no more meaning to you than broken game pieces."

Edward rolled his eyes. He knew he wasn't a good person. He didn't need to be constantly reminded of that fact. "Tell me, how many people have you killed in the past twenty four hours just to get my attention? I'd hold off on that 'destroyed lives' talk if I were you. "

Goodman sneered at him. "But that's not why you're really here, isn't it? Did you give that security guard at the museum a second thought? Did Bianchi's death register to you? Do you even care who the dead man in this room is? No, the reason you're here is because for all your talk about reforming, you're still a childish egomaniac who throws a tantrum when someone bests him."

Edward clenched his fist. "You haven't bested me at anything yet Goodman. And you never will." His eyes darted a bit around the hole he was in. He couldn't at first glance spot anything he could use as leverage to pull himself back up. Where the Hell was Selina?

Goodman looked like he wanted to say more when a familiar voice called out "Excuse me boys, but as much fun as this scintillating conversation as been, it's time to go to jail now."

Edward's shoulders slumped in relief. "Thank you for finally joining us Selina."

Goodman looked startled for a moment, then looked down at Edward with something that looked like disgust. "You enlisted a burglar to help you? You really are a spent force." Alright, that was just uncalled for.

Edward couldn't see Selina, but he could hear her unfurl her whip. "Not 'a' burglar your royal highness. The burglar. Now are you going to come along peacefully, or are you going to make me play rough?"

"Please play rough," Edward chimed in.

Goodman looked from where Edward presumed Selina was approaching back to Edward and he smiled. Edward instantly felt nervous. "You can apprehend me." he said. 'Or you can save Riddler." Goodman pressed another button just underneath the one he'd used to trap Edward beneath them. Instantly, he heard a mechanical whirring noise. Oh, that didn't sound good. Edward then realized that the walls were coming closer. Had Zeus always had that or was that new? "Selina!" he called out. "I don't mean to alarm you, but I think I'm about to be crushed!"

The only answer he received was the crack of Selina's whip against the wooden floor. "Shut it off Goodman or so help me-"

Edward looked up to see Goodman smash the control panel. Edward gulped. No shutting this off now. "He has three minutes. Make your choice," Goodman said, before he rushed out from where he came. Edward heard the sound of Selina's boots approaching, then nothing. A wave of panic overcame him. "Selina!?" She didn't-she didn't just abandon him, did she? Was this Aesop all over again? Edward immediately turned his attention back to the oncoming looked down at his cane. He could use it as a wedge...for about ten seconds before the force of the walls snapped it in half. He cursed himself nor never getting around to installing a grappling hook in one of these. After everthing he'd had to put up with in his life, this was how it ended? He was actually going to die here, at the hands of some washed up academic who ripped him off. This wasn't fair. He screwed his eyes shut. Jonathan wouldn't let him hear the end of this.

"Eddie!"

Edward's eyes flew open and he looked up. There, at the top of the opening in the floor, was Selina. She'd brought over one of the chairs from the table in the corner and threw it down to him. "Stand up on it and grap my whip! I'll pull you out!"

Edward did as she said and not a moment too soon. The walls would crush the chair any second now. Selina draped her whip down and waited until he'd grabbed onto it before she began to pull. Edward shimmied up as quick as he could. He'd never been great at rope climbing, but the threat of hideous death had a way of improving that.

"Eddie," Selina hissed out, obviously straining. "Are you almost up? I can't hold on for much longer!"

Almost...Edward kept climbing, hand over hand, until his right hand made contact with the floor. He quickly brought his left hand up and pulled himself out of the pit, just as the walls crushed the chair beneath him. Selina let go of the whip and dropped to her knees, catching her breath. Edward lay sprawled out beside her and waited for his heart rate to go down.

"Goodman?" he asked.

Selina shook her head. "He's long gone by now."

"You let him get away?"

Selina glared at Edward. "Did you really think I was going to let you get killed so I could get him? I don't want the museum jewelry that bad Eddie!"

Despite the situation, or maybe because of it, Edward felt his face soften. "Thank you, Lina."

Selina affectionately took off his hat and ruffled his hair. '"Anytime Eddie." Edward placed his hat back on with a huff. "You know," Selina said. "This is starting to get a bit serious."

"I noticed," Edward drawled. As he lay on his back, considering the events of the last few hours, he felt his anger boil up again. Goodman had gotten the better of him once. There wouldn't be a second time.

"What's the plan? Wait for him to announce another target?"

Edward, satisfied that his heart was about to burst out of his chest got up to his feet. "That's about all we can do. Goodman's made his goals quite clear to us. He won't stop until he seems me completely humiliated." Edward frowned. A spent force. Was that really how people saw him? Was that why Strange thought he'd be easy pickings? Edward shook his head. He'd show him. He'd show everyone. Reformed he may be, but Edward was still the smartest, as well as one of the most dangerous people in Gotham. It was high time Goodman remembered that.

Selina chuckled darkly, then got to her feet as well. "So, if Goodman's basically trying to be you, does that make you-"

Edward silenced her with a glare. "Don't finish that sentence Selina."

Selina shrugged. "Just saying."

Edward huffed. This ordeal was aggravating enough without being compared to _him._ Edward reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He had an overdue call to make.

* * *

"According to Goodman's employer, he's been a model employee for the past eight years. There weren't any problems with him."

Gordon nodded, then turned from Montoya to Bullock. "What about his apartment?"

"That's the weird thing Commissioner," Bullock said, scratching the back of his head. "His landlord said that he always paid his rent on time and in full, but when we searched the place, it didn't look like anyone lived there. No food, no clothes, just the furniture."

Gordon sighed. "So he's been staying elsewhere. Any friends or relatives in Gotham?"

"None that we could find," Montoya said. "The day before Christmas, Goodman quit his job. That was the last anyone saw him before the robbery at the museum."

"So up until three days ago, Goodman was a law abiding citizen. What happened that changed that?"

"With all due respect Commissioner," Joan pointed out. "Victor's been planning this for a lot longer than three days. This is too well thought out to be an impulsive break."

"But you said yourself that Goodman and Nigma have had no contact with each other since the incident ten years ago," Montoya pointed out.

Penelope listened to all of this silently, thinking about everything Goodman had done. It was calculated, well thought out and designed solely to lure out Edward. She couldn't help though but ponder why though. Had Goodman been plotting this since his release? Or perhaps, she thought, there wasn't a singular event that prompted this. Either way, tried not to think of the possible danger Edward was in. Her musings were interrupted by her cell phone. "Excuse me," she said to the assembled group as she looked at the phone. It was an unknown number. It could possibly be a patient. She got out of her chair and stepped out of the Commissioner's office to take the call. "Hello, this is Dr. Young-"

 _"Good afternoon Doctor!"_

Penelope nearly dropped the phone. "Edward?" she asked, making sure the door to the commissioner's office was shut and no one was around to hear her. "Where are-wait. How did you get my cell phone number?"

 _"That's not important right now. Can we meet? There's a coffee shop not too far from my office."_

"Edward," Penelope said. "I'm at the GCPD, I can't just leave now-"

 _"I saw Goodman."_

Penelope took a deep breath and tried not to lose her temper over the phone. "You confronted him, didn't you? Even after I asked you to tell me beforehand?"

 _"Are you going to nag me or do you want to hear what I found out?"_

Penelope pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'll be there in an hour." She hung up her phone with a bit more force than may have been necessary, then re-entered Gordon's office.

"Everything all right?" Gordon asked.

"Yes," Penelope said grabbing her purse where she'd left it by her seat. "I need to step out for a bit." She hesitated for a moment before settling on an easy cover story. "One of my patients is having a crisis."

Gordon looked concerned, but accepted the story. "Go on then. We can handle things here."

Penelope turned to leave, ignoring the guilt for lying to Gordon again and the suspicious look on Joan's face. Whatever Edward had to tell her had better be worth it.

* * *

Edward hadn't been sure he wanted to call Dr. Young in on this after their exchange that morning. She'd no doubt take what happened in Zeus' old hideout as proof that she and Gordon were right in not wanting him to be involved in this case. It couldn't be helped though. For all of his skill at manipulation, he'd never been good at really being able to get inside another person's head. He also couldn't risk her worrying too much on his account. As he recounted the incident to her in the coffee shop, he watched her intently. Her facials expressions didn't change as he told the story, though he thought he saw her eyebrow twitch when he mentioned Selina's involvement and how she'd saved him. "...So that's the situation." he concluded. "Thoughts?"

Dr. Young took a breath and folded her hands in front of her. "It's exactly what I was worried about," she said. "Goodman hates you to the point of obsession and he clearly doesn't care about any collateral damage that might happen as he tries to get back at you."

"Well that's obvious," Edward said.

Dr. Young shot him a dark look. "I lied to Gordon to get out here Edward. Don't take that tone with me."

Edward took a sip out of his coffee cup. Clearly, the good doctor was in a mood. "No offense intended," he said. "But what's your take on his motive? I mean, he can't be the only person in Gotham with a grudge against me, but he's the only one who's been so...baroque about it. Even Strange has been subtler so far."

Dr. Young thought on this for a moment. "He was a respected Egyptologist before his first murder," she said. "Part of the inciting incident ten years ago was a conflict between him and the board of directors about the Tut exhibition coming to Gotham, which didn't happen because of you."

"That might be true," Edward said. "But there's also the matter of the embezzlement. I had nothing to do with that. As far as I've gathered, that was the work of one of the board members he murdered."

Dr. Young nodded. "Yes, but think about it. Ten years later, he's a menial laborer with a criminal record. For someone with the ego he's demonstrated, that had to be humiliating. In my opinion, he has narcissistic tendencies. To protect his ego, he's turned you into a scapegoat for everything that's gone wrong in his life."

Edward nodded. This made sense in an uncomfortable way. "So why now? Why not kill me when I was still a rogue?"

"You were his equal then. Now you're a successful private investigator. You're his social superior now. That must be galling for him."

Edward rubbed his chin. "That would explain why he decided to attack places I did back then. If he can't beat me as a civilian, he'll beat me as a rogue." He grinned. "That gives a perfect way to attack him come to think of it. Turnabout is fair play after all. " Edward placed a wad of bills on the table. "The coffee's on me, Dr. Young. Thank you."

Penelope looked confused. "Wait. Where are you going now?"

"Back to my office," Edward answered. "Goodman's bound to announce his next target sooner or later. I need to think of how to prepare for it."

"Edward," Dr. Young said in a worried tone. God, he hated it when she spoke to him like that. It felt...wrong. "You should come with me back to GCPD and tell Gordon what you told me. We might be able to convince him to let you help."

"Or he'll take this as a sign that he was right and bench me, while Montoya and that cretin Bullock catch Goodman and take all the credit for it. Thank you, Dr. Young, but no. This is still my game."

Dr. Young's jaw dropped a bit. "Game?" she said. "Edward, three people have died in less than twenty four hours. You would have died if Ms. Kyle hadn't been there with you. You need to take this seriously-"

"I am taking this seriously!" Edward said, his voice raising a bit. "He called me out on television! He's made a fool out of me! I'm not letting that stand!"

"This isn't about your ego Edward," Dr. Young countered hotly. A few people seated next to them noticed the commotion and started to look over. "People's lives are at stake! What if Goodman decides targeting you isn't good enough and starts going after your associates? Ms. Kyle, Cobblepot-"

"Selina and Oswald have been in this business just as long as I have. They can more than take care of themselves. Listen," he said with a strained patience. "I appreciate the concern. Really. But I'm not your patient and I'm not a child. I've been in worst scrapes before and I don't need to be protected. I'll be just fine without you worrying over me."

Far from being placated, Dr. Young looked even angrier. "Why do you even want to work with me when you're not going to listen to a single word I say?"

The next words were out of Edward's mouth before he could think. "And if you ever have anything important to say, maybe then I'll listen to you!" He knew the second he'd finished that he'd gone too far. Dr. Young for a brief moment, looked hurt. Then her face became cold.

"I see," she said in a tone cold as ice. "Well then, if you insist on letting your ego get you killed, don't let me stop you." She grabbed her purse and walked out the exit. Edward almost tripped over his chair trying to catch up to her. He nearly collided with people coming into the coffee shop as he followed her to her car

"Dr. Young, wait, I didn't mean it that way-"

"Save it," she said harshly. She turned to him and glared at him. Edward almost shrank back at how angry she looked. "I can't believe I actually thought I could work with you. I'm not some informant of yours you can browbeat Edward!"

Edward held his hands up. "I never thought you were! You're my partner!"

"No I'm not," she argued. "If you were really interested in a partnership, you wouldn't just be using me for information then running off to do whatever you want regardless of what I think!" She opened her car door and got in. "Goodbye, Edward. Try not to get anyone else killed." She shut the door in Edward's face and drove off. Edward watched her go and realized just how badly he screwed this up. He barely registered the sound of someone else walking up to him.

"Well," Selina said. "That didn't go well, did it?"

Selina had changed back into her dress and had waited in a booth while Edward met with Dr. Young. Meaning she'd had a front row seat to their little showdown. Edward sighed. "She'll get over it once I bring Goodman in."

Selina shrugged. "If you say so Eddie. You know," she added. "For someone you say barely tolerates you, she does seem to care an awful lot about your safety."

Edward nodded absently. "Yes, she does." Or she did. He'd clearly underestimated just how much she'd cared about him as a person, not just as a means to an end. Oh well. He didn't have time to dwell on it now. "I'm going back to my office. I'll call you if Goodman shows up again."

Selina nodded. "All right. The girls are expecting me back anyway. Bye Eddie." Edward began the walk back towards his office, feeling something dangerously close to guilt.

While at the coffee shop, he hadn't noticed a black car parked across the street. He hadn't noticed the occupant of the car, a woman taking pictures of the entire exchange between him and Dr. Young. Or that the car had followed her immediately after she'd pulled out.

* * *

Goodman brooded over the day's events. He knew that Riddler was still alive. He would have been disappointed if he'd proven that easy to kill. More disappointed than he was now for certain. He'd remembered Riddler as being more of a challenge ten years earlier. That was the man he wanted to grind into the dust, not the faded has been he saw today. He had all of the ego, but none of the spark. If there was any trace of the rogue still there, he needed do find a way to bring him out. He heard the door of his home opening and he heard soft footsteps make their way towards him. "Well?"

"He's still alive. I followed him and Catwoman to a coffee shop near his office. There was someone else there too."

"Oh?" Goodman asked.

She placed a few photographs before him. Riddler was in them, as well as a woman, a pretty brunette. They were seated together in the first few photographs, then he was following her out the door. Then they were in some kind of an exchange. Goodman studied the look on Riddler's face in the last photograph, as the woman had left. He hadn't wanted her to go. "Who is she?"

"He called her Dr. Young," his companion answered. "I followed her back to GCPD headquarters. I did a bit of research on her while I was waiting fior the photographs to be developed. She's a psychiatrist. She used to be at Arkham, but she consults with the GCPD from time to time. Also, Riddler apparently saved her back in May at the Memorial shooting."

Goodman nodded. "Did he now..." Goodman grinned. He'd found the way to bring the Riddler out.


	18. The Curse of King Tut, pt 6

_"...Gotham police have identified the man found murdered in the former Maxie Zeus nightclub as Nicky Stavros, a former lieutenant of Zeus' before the crime lord's incarceration in Arkham Asylum. Police have confirmed that they believe this was yet another killing by Victor Goodman. Since his broadcast yesterday, Goodman remains at large, leaving all of Gotham to wonder when and where he'll strike next. This is Summer Gleason, with GCNN."_

Him and Gotham both, Edward thought. Since his entanglement with Goodman yesterday, there hadn't been a peep out of the man. Edward was savvy enough to know that this meant Goodman was biding his time for something. Figuring out just what that something was though, was easier said than done. When he'd arrived back at his office the previous afternoon, he'd contacted all of his informants and ordered them to keep an eye and ear out for any sign of movement near his old haunts. Given that he had, as of now, only about ten people in his network, there was only so much ground he could cover.

Not for the first time since their spat in the coffee shop, Edward considered what Dr. Young had said. Deirdre and Nina were far away in Central City. Selina could more than take care of herself and had the added bonus of living with Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn. Oswald had a virtual army at his disposal in the Iceberg Lounge. He'd kept Ellen close enough to the chest that no one but the aforementioned group of people and Joan Leland knew she existed. He hadn't even gotten around to telling Dr. Young about her. One of his informants was stationed in her neighborhood though, just in case. Apart from the denizens of Pandora's Box, that was pretty much everyone Edward could consider a close associate. One of the benefits of being a former super villain, he supposed. It meant there weren't many friends who could be used against you. Edward sighed, tuning out the television playing in his office. Not for the first time, he looked down at his cell phone, sitting on his desk. He really should call her, he thought. He couldn't let her have the last word like that. Every time he'd begun dialing her number though, something would change his mind. It was too soon after their argument and she'd need time to cool down. It was too late at night. She'd just hang up on him. She'd hand the phone over to Gordon, or worse still, Cash. She'd ignore him entirely. He was never good at apologizing. He had nothing to apologize for. He wouldn't have agreed to share what he knew about Hugo Strange with her if he didn't respect her just a little bit and it wasn't his fault if she hadn't picked up on that. He probably should tell her that.

"Focus Edward," he groaned putting the phone back down. "Goodman remember?" He leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms out, letting out a yawn as he did so. He'd fallen asleep in his office after reading and re-reading the case file from ten years ago. If there was some clue hidden there as to what Goodman would do next, he hadn't found it. Reading the old files hadn't jogged his memories either. He scoffed. Even in the unlikelihood that there was a detail he missed, if it wasn't in the file, it couldn't be that important. Edward had just been a bit careless and Goodman just got lucky. At any rate, he clearly wasn't following his old playbook, so what point was there reminiscing about the past? Edward needed something in the here and now to bring in him. Pinpoint his weakness, then use that to lure him in. As Edward idly watched Summer Gleason report on the days headlines, the answer occurred to him. Goodman was egotistical. No, more than that. Goodman had a God Complex. Dr. Young had said herself that Goodman demonized him to protect his ego from having to admit he was responsible for his own downfall. All Edward had to do was poke at it and Goodman would fall right into his hands. And Edward knew exactly how to do that.

He gazed at the television and smirked. Turnabout is fair play after all.

* * *

"You've been in a mood today."

Penelope didn't bother to look up from the file she was reading to acknowledge Joan. "Have I been? I haven't noticed."

Joan clucked her tongue. "Really? You haven't noticed that that's the fifth time you've read that file in the last hour? Or that you made a rookie cop run for cover when he asked you if you wanted coffee? What's bothering you Penelope?"

Penelope put the file down and sighed. "I'm sorry. It's just this case Joan. I can deal with it."

"Hmm." Joan sat down next to Penelope. "The case itself," she asked in a low voice, "Or the private investigator you met with yesterday?"

Penelope nearly jumped out of her chair. She looked at her former mentor and relaxed slightly when her expression wasn't one of anger or judgement, but of bemusement. "How did you know?"

Joan chuckled. "I didn't until just now, but I suspected as much. I've only ever seen one person make you this agitated." Joan's expression turned to one of concern. "What happened?"

Penelope shook her head. "Nothing that I shouldn't have seen coming. Nigma's as arrogant and self-serving as he was when he was the Riddler. I should have known better than to think that because he worked with me once, that-" That what? Just because he'd shown some glimmers of human decency in the past few months since she'd met him again didn't mean he still wasn't a self-absorbed jackass who was condescending at best. She sighed. "I never expected him to genuinely like me, but I don't think it's too much to ask that he shows a little bit of respect."

Joan shook her head. "He's always been difficult. That shouldn't be a surprise to you. But he still called you. And you still went to meet him." Joan gave her a probing look. "Penelope, is there something going on between you two that I should know about?"

Penelope fought to keep herself cool and collected as she formed a response. "I'm not trying to become his Harley Quinn, if that's what you're implying."

Joan look saddened somewhat at the reminder of her former protege. "No," she answered. "Nothing like that Penelope, I know you too well. But I can't help but feel like there's something you haven't told me about when you've worked with him."

Penelope stared down at the table, weighing the pros and cons of telling Joan the truth behind her and Edward's 'partnership.' Partnership. As if she'd been anything other than a glorified informant. After how dismissive and insulting he'd been to her at the coffee shop, Penelope wasn't sure she was willing to work with the man again on the matter of Hugo Strange. She would need allies and Joan's insight would be valuable. More than that though, Joan was her friend. Joan was a big part of what got her out of her fog of guilt and self-pity after Arkham. She didn't feel right keeping something like this from her. "It's a long story," she said, so low she could barely hear himself. "But Nigma thinks-"

"That arrogant, self-promoting son of a bitch!"

Joan turned in her chair at the sound of the commissioner's voice and Penelope let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. The two women watched as Gordon stormed down the hallway that led from his office into the bullpen, trailed by Bullock and Montoya. He was visibly angry, angier than Penelope had recalled seeing him since she began working with GCPD. "This is exactly why I didn't want him involved in this case! Tell all of our units to be on stand by!"

Montoya nodded. "On it, Commissioner."

"NOW can I bring him in?" Bullock asked.

Gordon ignored him, instead continuing to past the bullpen, until he exited GCPD. "What on Earth is going on?" Joan asked.

Bullock sneered. "Nigma just put out word that he's doing a press conference. Says he's going to address Tut himself. Glory hogging freak..."He followed Gordon out the door, muttering under his breath the whole time.

Joan and Penelope exchanged a look. "Honestly," Joan said, shaking her head. "Can he solve one case without promoting himself?" She walked back into the bullpen, finding a television to watch.

No, Penelope thought, recalling what she'd said to him at the coffee shop. It was more than that. Edward was going to use his TV appearance to attack Goodman. He was going to lure him out by attacking his ego. If this didn't work, Edward would make himself look like a jackass on TV. But if it did...he was setting himself up as bait. Penelope wasn't sure if she wanted him to succeed or not.

"He's on! Here we go!"

Cash's voice broke Penelope out of her thoughts with a start and she rushed to join him, Joan and other officers around the television set up in the bullpen. So far, the screen showed a crowd of reporters, including Jack Ryder and Vicki Vale, gathered in front of an empty podium outside of the old Solomon Wayne courthouse. No doubt that was where Edward intended to speak.

"If Tut attacks, those reporters are gonna be right in the middle of it," Cash said. "Nigma better know what he's doing."

Penelope's fist clenched a bit. It wasn't the reporters she feared for. If Edward got out of this unscathed, she thought, she might kill him herself.

* * *

 _"Are you sure this is a good idea Eddie?"_

Edward cradled the cell phone between his ear and shoulder as he adjusted his tie. "No," he answered Selina truthfully. "But it's the best idea I've got. If Goodman is so intent on proving himself better than me, he won't stand for me calling him out on TV."

 _"And this has nothing to do with him calling you a has-been on the news yesterday?"_

Edward grinned a bit. "Maybe just a bit." He checked his watch. Five minutes until he was due to go on. "Where are you?"

 _"I'm on the rooftop across the street from the courthouse. Don't worry, I'll be keeping an eye on you just in case our friend Tut shows up."_

"My guardian angel," Edward said. He was lingering in the shadows by the columns that made up the front of the courthouse. He saw the crowd of reporters beginning to form and recognized a few of them. Vicki Vale, Summer Gleason and that idiot Ryder were up in front. He scanned the crowd searching for any sign of Goodman. He'd sent the word to the news outlets that he would be speaking about the murders just two hours ago. The news outlets had begun reporting on it ninety minutes ago. Depending on where in Gotham Goodman was holed up and how well he could navigate the snow, it could take him anywhere from two hours to two minutes to get to the courthouse, to wait...Edward scoffed. Goodman was a ripoff artist who made up in viciousness what he lacked in originality and actual cleverness. He was the Riddler. Well, formerly the Riddler. He had nothing to fear. With that thought in mind, Edward adjusted his hat. He wanted to look as good as he could in front of the cameras, to drive the comparison between him and Goodman home. "I'm about to go on. Meet me behind the courthouse when I'm done." He disconnected the call, put his phone in his pocket and strolled out towards the waiting throng.

A chorus of voices greeted his arrival, loud and overlapping each other in a dull roar. In the medley, Edward could make out snippets of sentences. _"-Mr. Nigma-Nigma!-Are you investigating-Do you have any information about King Tut-Do you have any comment on the murders?-Where do you think he'll strike next-"_

Edward made it to the podium, wincing a bit at the flashes from the cameras. He held up one hand and the noise dimmed. Once his eyesight had recovered, he looked over the crowd of reporters and he couldn't help the grin that came to his face. He was in his element here, with a large audience waiting to eat from the palm of his hand. "Good afternoon, esteemed ladies and gentlemen of the Fourth Estate," he began. "And Jack Ryder. I won't take up much of your time. I've called you here today to address the reemergence of Victor Goodman, better known to all as King Tut. First off, I would like to ensure you all that I have the situation well in hand."

"So is this a confirmation that you are investigating the murders?" Gleason asked. "Are you working with the GCPD or is this a solo investigation?"

"Solo I'm afraid," Edward answered with an insincere twinge of regret. "I would be more than happy to lend my assistance once again to the GCPD, but Commissioner Gordon has decided otherwise. You'd have to ask him why." Perhaps the dig at Gordon was a bit unnecessary, but then again, so had his treatment of him at he museum yesterday.

A reporter next to Gleason held up his hand next. "What can you tell us about your investigation so far?"

"Now now," Edward smirked. "You know I don't like to divulge too much information about my ongoing cases. Still..." he paused briefly, relishing the look of suspense on the reporters' faces. It was these little moments that he really lived for. "I can confirm that I met Goodman face to face yesterday at the scene of the third murder, where he then attempted to kill me."

This announcement had the desired effect as the reporters began clamoring loudly again. Edward magnanimously pointed at Vicki Vale, who was shouting the loudest. "Is this a vendetta then?" she asked. "Did Goodman re-emerge to get revenge on you?"

Edward's eyes lit up. Now he could begin the barrage. "It would appear so. He seems to be under the mistaken belief that he can best me as a Rogue." He chuckled a bit. "Just as well. It's not as if a mere park custodian can best a private investigator after all."

"Didn't he though? I mean, it's not like you actually caught him." That would be the smug, over-weening voice of Jack Ryder. Edward mustered as much patience as he could to answer his question.

"I did mention that he attempted to kill me, didn't I? At any rate, my encounter with him helped me determine what exactly kind of man he is. My capturing him is inevitable."

Ryder wasn't about to let up. "And just what kind of man is King Tut?"

Edward wet his lip before he began. "Victor Goodman," he said at last, "Is exactly the same man he was ten years ago: he is a bitter, jumped up thug who only got to where he is by standing on the shoulders of the smarter people who came before him. This whole sorry affair is nothing more than a tantrum thrown by a thoroughly inadequate man desperate to prove that he's something more than he is."

Ryder raised an eyebrow. "And just how is that any different from you? Didn't you do the same thing with Batman for years?" The reporters around him grew silent, waiting for Edward's reaction.

God, but Edward hated Jack Ryder. Gripping both sides of the podium tightly, Edward managed to keep his composure, just barely. "The difference between someone like myself and someone like Goodman," he said "Is that when I faced catastrophe, I was able to pick myself back up and make myself into something better. Goodman isn't clever or resourceful enough do so. He'll simply spiral back down into his own madness. And that is why I will always be better than him. Now if you'll excuse me-" Edward tipped his hat to the crowd and gave a wink to the camera. He hoped Goodman was watching. "-I have a murderer to catch." Edward walked back from where he came, the reporters continuing to ask questions in his wake.

Edward ducked into the old courthouse and walked out of a side door that led into an alley way. He walked down it, pulling his jacket tighter around him as the wind picked up. Winter in Gotham could be brutal and this one was no exception. He paused when he came to the back of the old courthouse. Selina should be here any moment. Hopefully, this idea of his worked out. He'd hate to see the media's reaction if after that press conference, all that happened was that Goodman disappeared completely. Or worse, ignored it and killed again. Edward would be crucified by them. Ryder would lead the charge too, that smug bastard. Not to mention what Dr. Young would say. If she spoke to him at all. Edward rubbed his hands in irritation. When did he care what she thought of him?

The distinct crunching sound of feet on snow brought Edward out of his musings. Seemed that Selina had finally decided to make her appearance. "You impudent, arrogant fool."

Or not. Edward turned behind him and saw none other than Victor Goodman approaching him in his full Egyptian attire, a fire burning in those dark brown eyes. He must have seen the news report and got here early after all. Edward raised an eyebrow. It was barely 30 degrees out and yet Goodman wore no shirt or shoes? Any other time, Edward would admire his dedication to his aesthetic. "Good afternoon Victor," he greeted. "Nice to see you again."

"Shut up," Goodman growled, continuing to approach. Edward found it necessary to back up, fully aware of the fact that the alley they were in was a dead end. Anytime Selina. "A 'jumped up thug'? You think you can mock me in front all of Gotham!?"

"Well you started it," Edward countered, not caring how childish that sounded. "And in my defense, I did't say anything that wasn't true, now did I?"

Goodman lunged towards him, his hook like weapon aimed right for Edward's throat. Thinking quickly, Edward grabbed the lid off of a garbage can next to him and raised it up as a shield, deflecting Goodman's strike. Before Goodman to attack again, Edward drove his left fist upwards into Goodman's exposed belly. As Goodman leaned forward, dropping the hook, Edward brought the trash can lid down across the side of Goodman's sending him sprawling to the snow covered pavement. Edward looked down over him and smirked. "Exactly where you belong 'Tut'. At my feet." Goodman groaned and attempted to raise himself. Edward gave him a vicious kick and the man remained still after that.

"Having fun there Eddie?"

Edward looked up and saw Selina perched on a fire escape. "Hello dear," he said. "You wouldn't happen to have your bolas on you by any chance, would you?"

Selina opened a black bag and tossed two of them down to him. Edward grabbed one and used it to tie Goodman's hands behind his back. "You took a while to get here," he mentioned. "Not that I'm complaining."

"I scouted around the courthouse a bit to make sure Goodman didn't have any friends waiting to ambush you." Selina looked around the general vicinity a bit. "I'm still not sure he doesn't."

Edward shrugged as he tied Goodman's feet with the other bola. "Selina, if and if Goodman had a partner so what? We have the man himself now. Any partner he had GCPD can track down, if they don't disappear entirely."

Selina shook her head a bit. "I don't know Eddie. Didn't this seem a bit...easy?"

Edward scoffed. "Easy? After what happened yesterday you call this easy? I'd hate to see what you think is difficult!" Satisfied that Goodman was secure, Edward pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Are the reporters still by the courthouse?"

"They were a minute ago."

Edward was positively gleeful as he dialed the numbers to GCPD headquarters. "Just wait until that prick Ryder sees this! Hello, GCPD? This is Edward Nigma. I'm calling to let you know that I've caught Victor Goodman..."

* * *

If the scene in front of the Solomon Wayne courthouse before and during the press conference was chaotic, the scene for Goodman's arrest was bedlam. Selina had since disappeared, waiting for Edward to tell her when he found out where Goodman had been holed up and the location of any items she might like for herself, as per their arrangement. Edward was almost blinded by the cameras shoved into his face. _"Mr. Nigma-did you know Goodman was going to attack you here-was the press conference you called a lure-_

One person though, was less than impressed by Edward's success. _"Nigma! Get over here! Now!"_

Edward extricated himself from the reporters reluctantly and walked towards the swarm of police cars. Goodman, fully awake now, was being loaded into one. Commissioner Gordon stood in front of it, eyes glaring at Edward as he made his way over. "Afternoon Commissioner!"

"Don't you 'afternoon' me Nigma!" Gordon boomed pointing his finger at the former rogue. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in!? Interfering in an official police investigation, obstruction of justice-" he gestured towards the throng of reporters. "You used these people as bait for God's sake! What if Goodman had attacked you during the press conference? These people could have been killed! What do you have to say for yourself!?"

Edward rubbed his chin. "I think," he said. "I would say that I've brought in a triple murderer before he could kill or maim anyone else. And I think I can say that this particular scene could have been avoided if you'd let me officially work this case in the first place."

Gordon's nostrils flared and for a moment, Edward thought he might have gone too far. "I didn't bring you in Nigma," he said in a low voice. "Because I knew you would make this about yourself and your ego first. And I was right." He looked back towards the reporters and their cameras. "I won't arrest you," he said. "But you're coming to GCPD and telling us everything you know about this case."

Edward's eyes narrowed. This was hardly the apology he wanted. He remembered though that Dr. Young would be there, to conduct an intake interview with Goodman at least. It would be the best possible chance he had of clearing the air with her. "Very well," he acquiesced."But I reserve the right to leave whenever I want. I do have at least one or two interviews this evening."

Gordon let out a noise of disgust and half dragged Edward to his car. "Shut up and follow me Nigma."

Despite the manhandling, Edward felt ridiculously pleased with himself. He'd shown Gotham once and for all who the true King of Conundrums was, even if he perhaps wasn't up to par with what he had been ten years ago. Goodman would be locked away in a cell and forgotten again, just as it should be.

* * *

"So are we dumping this guy at Arkham or what?"

The second uniformed officer shook his head. "Nah, we gotta take him back to headquarters first. Doc Young'll will check him out, them she'll say whether he goes to Arkham or to Blackgate."

The first officer snorted. "A guy dressing up like he does in this weather? No way is he not going to Arkham!"

As the two fools up front bantered, Victor leaned his head back and smiled. All was going according to plan.


	19. The Curse of King Tut, pt 7

Edward slammed Gordon's office door behind him as he left, his previous good mood soured by the interrogation he'd received at the hands of Gordon. Bullock's snide commentary didn't help matters. He stalked down the hall towards the bullpen, thinking on what Gordon and his lead detective had said to him. 'Grandstanding...self-absorbed...reckless disregard for the lives of others...' Once they had finished berating him and making sure he'd told them everything he knew about Goodman, they'd shown him the door without so much as a 'thank you' for catching Goodman for them. Some gratitude. The next time there was a murderer running amok in Gotham, Edward vowed, GCPD were on their own.

Goodman himself was holed up in one of the interrogation rooms down the hall on the opposite side of the bull pen. There was a small crowd of uniformed officers and younger detectives about, no doubt eager to get a look at a bonafide rogue. Edward ignored them when he caught a glimpse of Dr. Young making her way down the hallway towards interrogation. He picked up his pace a bit to catch up to her. "Dr. Young!"

"I have work to do," she said coldly. "Whatever this is Nigma, make it quick."

Edward almost stopped dead in his tracks. She hadn't called him by anything other than his first name since the Barnes case back in September. She really was angry with him. He recovered though and pressed on. "On your way to interview Goodman, I take it? And to think, you were worried about me confronting him."

"I wasn't worried about you," she said, too quickly for it to be true. "I was more concerned about any collateral damage that might take place. One of us has to be."

Edward frowned. All right then, maybe a little flattery would soothe her. "You know, you do deserve some of the credit for Goodman's capture. Your insight was invaluable in my plan."

Dr. Young stopped suddenly and her hands clutched the notebook she was holding tightly. "Is that so?" she said. She turned to look at Edward then and he saw for himself just how angry she was at him. "Are you saying that because you mean it, or because you think it's what I want to hear and that will keep me around for the next time you need something?"

Edward groaned in exasperation. "For God's sake, what do you want from me? An apology? Fine: I'm sorry I was short with you yesterday. There. Are you satisfied?"

"What I want from you," she spoke in a low tone so that any police officers walking by wouldn't hear. "Is an acknowledgement that I'm an actual person! I'm not just something for you to use when it's convenient for you and to completely disregard when it isn't!"

"May I remind you Dr. Young, that you were the one who reached out to me? I didn't just show up out of the blue to con you into something like-"then Edward understood. This wasn't really about him, was it? "This isn't the Asylum," he said, in a calmer tone. "And I'm not the Joker. I don't use and discard people like he does. I would not have confided in you what I have if all I wanted to do was use you."

Dr. Young's face remained almost blank, but Edward thought he could see her hard blue eyes soften, just a bit. "I need to conduct this interview. When I'm done, if you're still here, we can talk more." She turned and continued walking down the hall. Edward sighed and checked his watch. 5:00. If he left now, he could still get an exclusive with Summer Gleason for the 6:00 news. Edward turned and walked back towards the waiting room outside of the bull pen. He could always get on Vicki Vale's slot at 8:00. As he walked into the waiting room, he just barely brushed past a dark-haired woman on her way out. Edward turned sharply and looked at her as she walked out the doors of GCPD. It felt like he'd met her somewhere before. He shrugged and entered the room, taking a seat by the door. He was so preoccupied by his thoughts that he didn't notice the cell phone lying on the floor under the seat next to him. Or that there was a timer on it.

* * *

Penelope pushed all thoughts of her conversation with Edward out of her mind as she approached Interrogation Room A. She needed to be objective when interviewing Goodman. She could see Joan just ahead, standing outside of the interrogation room door. She had followed Montoya and Goodman when he'd been brought in. Now she stood by the one-way mirror and looked on his interrogation with sadness. Joan seemed to be taking Goodman's relapse hard, Penelope noted. She'd always seen her empathy for her patients, including the rogues at Arkham, as a strength as a psychiatrist, rather than as a danger. She and Sharp had disagreed strongly on that. Penelope wondered often just how much might have been avoided at that horrid place if she and the rest of the staff had taken their cue from Joan.

"Have you spoken with him?" Penelope asked as she joined her former mentor.

"I tried," Joan answered. "He was non responsive. I barely got him to acknowledge me before Detective Montoya started her interrogation."

Penelope peered into the one-way mirror. Montoya was standing over Goodman, asking him about the robbery and murder at the museum. Goodman started straight ahead, not acknowledging the detective. Penelope took note of his face. A dark bruise had formed from where Edward had apparently struck him with a garbage can lid and he was draped in a blanket. His dark brown eyes stared straight ahead. Penelope knew he wouldn't be able to see her through the mirror, but it seemed to her as if was staring right through her. "Has he asked for a lawyer?"

Joan shook her head. "No. He hasn't answered any questions either."

"Is this consistent with his behavior ten years ago?"

"He was rather withdrawn when he was brought in, yes. It took a few sessions for him to really begin to open up to me. There was one thing about when I spoke to him earlier that stood out to me though: when I came into the room, he cringed. It was almost as if he was ashamed that I saw him."

Penelope furrowed her brow. Shame indicated a consciousness of guilt. Perhaps Goodman wouldn't be going straight to Arkham after all. Penelope tapped her knuckles on the mirror to signal Montoya. The detective walked away from Goodman and opened the door to beckon her inside. "He's all yours Doc. I need to talk to the commissioner, but I'll be right back."

"Thank you," Penelope acknowledged. She turned to Joan before she stepped in. "Do you have any advice?"

"Don't get drawn into any talk about Aten or about you-know-who. And don't pity him. He gets angry when he thinks he's being condescended to."

He wasn't the only one. "All right then. Tell the Commissioner I'll be about half an hour." Penelope then walked into the interrogation room.

Montoya shut the door behind her. For the first time, Penelope found herself face to face with Victor Goodman. The man continued to stare straight ahead. "Hello Victor," she said taking her seat across the table from him. "My name is Dr. Penelope Young. I'll just want to ask you a few questions. Is that all right?"

Penelope always liked to give her subjects at least the illusion of choice. It was to serve as a contrast to how demanding the GCPD officers could be and so far, it had worked. Goodman however, didn't respond to her. She sighed. She'd had her fill of dealing with difficult men for today. "How are you feeling?"

Goodman chuckled a bit, which almost startled her. "That's a loaded question, isn't it Dr. Young?"

Well, he'd acknowledged her. That was a start. "I was told you were injured during your capture, but that you refused medical treatment."

"Oh this?" he gestured to his face. "This is the least of what _he's_ done to me."

 _He_ was the last person Penelope wanted to think about right now. "Let's not talk about him now. I'd like to know a bit more about you."

If Goodman was as egotistical as the past case reports and her own observations suggested he was, he wouldn't be able to resist talking himself. Goodman looked at her questioningly. "You weren't in Arkham when I was incarcerated, were you?"

"No," Penelope answered. "I didn't start my internship there until after you had been released. Dr. Leland's told me that you were a model patient."

Goodman's face softened somewhat. "She's a good woman," he said. "I'm sorry that she has to see this."

"She's here because she wants to help you Victor," Penelope said sincerely. "We all do."

Goodman's face darkened. "Now people want to help me. Where have they been for the last eight years?"

Penelope opened her notebook and jotted down a few notes. Victor clearly was bitter about the direction his life had gone, as she suspected. "You were medically cleared Victor. You've been living, by all accounts, a peaceful life."

"A peaceful life," Goodman repeated in a mocking manner. "When I left Arkham, I actually believed that I'd be able to go on with my life. Even if I couldn't get my job at the museum back, that I'd at least still be able to do what I loved." His face crumpled and for a moment, Penelope thought he might cry. "My credentials were revoked. No historical or archaeological society would acknowledge me. My family disowned me, most of my friends wouldn't even speak to me. I couldn't leave this cursed city to start over, or even to travel without the police immediately issuing a warrant for my arrest! I've spent the last eight years of my life cleaning up other people's garbage in parks! And now-" He stopped suddenly. He looked back up at her and he looked like the saddest man she'd ever seen. "Tell me Dr. Young: would you be happy to have such a 'peaceful life'?"

In all of his self-pity, Goodman seemed to have forgotten something very important. "Victor," she said carefully. "I won't deny that you were dealt a bad hand, but you still maimed and murdered people."

"So have other people in this very building," Goodman seethed. "And the Gods did not see fit to punish him. In fact, he's even been rewarded for it."

No acknowledgement of his own crimes. No guilt over what he'd done. And now it came back to Edward. Despite Joan's advice, it seemed that Penelope wouldn't be able to avoid that subject. "You're speaking of Edward Nigma?"

"Yes, The Riddler!" Goodman nearly shouted. He shook his head. "When I heard he was in a coma," he said. "I was happy for the first time since before I was put in Arkham. Then about a year ago, I saw him being interviewed on television. He was saying that he'd lost his memory, that he was a new man. I didn't believe it for a moment. I didn't think anyone else would either. Then I saw an advertisement on television. It was him, trying to sell himself as a 'private investigator.' Then I saw him on the news again, for solving a break in at Wayne Tower. Then I saw him on the news again and again and again..." Goodman grit his teeth. "How many years did he spend terrorizing this city? 15? How many people died as a result of his games? And he gets to be successful? I lost everything and he gets to be happy?"

Penelope remembered what Edward had said all those months ago in Tetch's hideout. "A life I can't remember, a police force counting down the days until I relapse, former colleagues and friends betraying me left and right and the one person I needed the most, is, is...I feel like I'm being haunted by my own ghost, so you tell me Selina, would you kill for a life like that?" Edward was many things, but she didn't think she could say he was happy. He and Goodman had more in common with each other than either man would care to admit. "I can certainly see why you would resent him," she said finally. "If you'd just decided to go to his office one day and shoot him, I don't think there'd be many people in this building who'd shed a tear. But you murdered three people who had nothing to do with what happened ten years ago just to spite him?"

"Bianchi was a made man for Carmine Falcone. Stavros a gun runner. Will Gotham mourn their loss?"

"And Henry Lucas?"

"Who?"

"The security guard at the museum?"

Goodman looked down at his hands. "That was regrettable. But I warned him not to interfere. He didn't listen."

Penelope wrote down more notes. Goodman's obsessed with revenge on Ed-on Nigma to the point of homicide. He shows no empathy and little regard for human life. She was becoming convinced though that Goodman didn't fit the definition of legal insanity.

* * *

Outside the interrogation room, Joan Leland watched the conversation between Victor and Penelope with increasing dismay. She's had such high hopes for Victor after his release from Arkham all those years ago. To see him reduced to this was disappointing.

"Dr. Leland!"

She turned to see a young uniformed officer run up to her. "What is it?"

"Nigma and Officer Cash are getting into a fight in the bullpen! You better come check it out!" The young man ran back down the hallway and Joan could begin to hear the sounds of a scuffle.

"Good Lord," she murmured. She followed the officer back towards the bullpen. Penelope Young was now totally alone with Victor Goodman.

* * *

"I've thought about killing him," Goodman continued. "Every second of every day since I saw that grotesque commercial of his I've wanted nothing more than to wring his neck. That's not good enough though. I don't just want him dead. I want to humiliate him. I want to shame him. I want to make him suffer everything I have for the past eight years."

Penelope sighed. This was getting nowhere and it was beginning to uncomfortably remind her of Edward back when he was her patient in the asylum. "Victor," she said. "Edward Nigma is not the reason your life fell apart. This obsession won't end well. You shouldn't give him that much power in your life. Look at where you are now."

Goodman smiled a bit at that. "I am," he said. "Precisely where I want to be, Dr. Young."

Penelope rose slightly at that. "What do you mean? You wanted him to catch you?"

Goodman continued to smile. "I was a bit disappointed in his showing when we met yesterday. I thought that committing his old crimes would be enough to bring out the man he used to be. The real him. It seems I needed better bait."

Before Penelope could fully digest what Goodman said, she heard loud voices coming from outside the room. One of them was painfully familiar to her. "Get her away from him right now! She's in danger!"

For one brief, terrible moment, Penelope took her eyes off of Goodman. One moment was all he needed.

* * *

 _Five Minutes Earlier_

Edward checked his watch again for the fifth time that minute. 5:30. He leaned back in the stiff plastic chair in a huff. Just how long was this interview going to take? Was probing Goodman's mind that appealing for her? His cell phone buzzed again. He pulled it out of his pocket to find a congratulatory note from Oswald, a request for an exclusive by Vicki Vale and two missed calls from Ellen. Edward put his phone back in his pocket and sighed. Fifteen more minutes, he vowed. Then he was out of here. He wished he brought a book.

"Hey! Nigma!"

Edward looked up and saw a young police officer standing in front of him. He had to be fresh out of the academy with how skittish he was acting around the former rogue. "May I help you?" he asked.

"Y-yeah." The officer pulled a scrap of paper out of his pocket. "One of the ladies at dispatch said someone called with a message for you."

Edward raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" His friends, associates and clients had his cell phone number. Who would be calling the police station looking for him? "Did they happen to say who they were?"

"Nah," the cop said. "Just that they think it was a woman. She said-" he squinted a bit at the message. "she said to ask you 'Who is most important to nobody?' and then she hung up."

Edward cocked his head. Was that an attempt at a riddle? He held his hand out. "Let me see that." The cop handed the paper over to him and Edward took a look for himself. 'Who is most important to Nobody?' Edward would usually never indulge the cranks who tried to stump him with their amateur riddles, but he had nothing better to do. "Hmm..Well," he mused more to himself than to the cop. "It's a who, not a what. Now nobody...nobody...Wait, why is it capitalized?" he snapped his fingers. "I've got it! It's a reference to The Odyssey! 'Nobody' was the name Odysseus gave to Polyphemus, just before he blinded him. So then, who was most important to Odysseus? His wife, Pene-" Edward stopped as realization dawned. No. _No. No!_

Edward practically shoved the hapless young cop out of his way as he jumped out of his chair and sprinted into the bull pen. Selina said it was too easy. It was too easy. He wanted to be brought here. He wanted to get to her-Edward collided with a solid mass and almost fell back. "Get out of my way you moron!" he snapped.

Aaron Cash looked less than impressed. "Where do you think you're going Nigma?"

Edward tried to go around Cash, but the man wouldn't budge. "I have to get to interrogation, he's with her-"

Cash pushed Edward back. A small crowd of officers were beginning to form, watching the scene with interest. "You're not going anywhere near interrogation. You've already been such a huge pain in the ass-"

Edward grit his teeth. He didn't have time for this. He had to get to Goodman. He had to get to her. "Get out of my way Cash or so help me God I'll-"

Cash leaned down, glaring at Edward. "You'll what, Riddle boy?"

Edward deeply regretted not having a cane on him. He could improvise though. He backed up a bit then charged, shoving Cash as hard as he could. The way towards interrogation was clear, but he didn't make it more than three steps before Cash grabbed him around his waist, pulling him back. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't bust you for assaulting a police officer!"

Edward struggled to get out of Cash's grip to no avail. "Let me go! Goodman played us! He's after Dr. Young! Get her away from him right now! She's in danger!"

Cash's grip loosened, but not enough for Edward to break free. "What the Hell are you talking about?"

"What's going on here?" Edward looked and saw Dr. Leland emerging from the hallway where the interrogation rooms were located. She'd be the only person willing to listen to him.

"Nigma's acting freaky Doc. I've got it under control. He thinks Goodman's going try something against Doc Young. Montoya's still in interrogation though."

Dr. Leland's eyes widened in horror. "No, she's not. She went to speak with Commissioner Gordon. Oh my God!" she turned back down the hallway. "She's alone with him!"

That was the final straw. Edward stomped down on Cash's foot with all his might. Cash let out a curse and finally let go. Edward broke free and sprinted out of the bullpen as fast as he could, ignoring the shouts of the other officers and of Dr. Leland. Stupid worthless idiots, how could they leave her alone with him, the man was a mass murderer, did he have to do everything around here-

"Riddler!"

Edward stopped dead in his tracks, the color draining from his face. He was too late. Before him stood Victor Goodman and Dr. Young. He had her pulled against him, his elbow wrapped around her throat. She stood frozen, looking more terrified then Edward ever recalled seeing her. Goodman smiled smugly at him. "I see you received my message."

Behind him, Edward could vaguely hear the sounds of the officers springing into action."Don't move-somebody get the commissioner-freeze-" He heard the distinctive clicks of firearms. He paid little attention to it though. Right now, all that existed for him was the man standing before him and the woman he was manhandling-his partner. Edward took a slow step towards Goodman. "You son of a bitch, I'll kill you if-"

Goodman took a step back, his grip around Dr. Young tightening. "Don't take another step!" Edward froze. "Put your hands up, slowly. None of your tricks."

Dr. Young seemed to come to life then. "Edward! Don't!"

Edward did as Goodman commanded, slowly raising his hands until they were above his head. "There. Satisfied?"

Goodman let out a low laugh. "Not yet. But very soon, I will be. I told you yesterday Riddler. I want to see you completely humiliated. I want all of Gotham to know just what a washed up phony you really are." Goodman glanced down at Dr. Young and Edward's blood boiled. "The smartest man in Gotham and you couldn't protect her from me."

Edward estimated he was about five feet away from Goodman. All he needed was a distraction. For now, he'd have to indulge the mad man. "I have to hand it to you Victor. That really was well played. Even I didn't see that coming. You really can give me a run for my money." Goodman's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Edward wet his lip. "Just between you and me," he said. "Your cunning is wasted on someone like her." Forgive me Dr. Young. "She's just a washed up Arkham doctor who couldn't hack it working with the likes of us." Dr. Young's eyes flashed for a moment, then widened a bit as she realized what he was doing. "She's nothing. I'm the big game Victor. Take me."

Goodman hesitated. Then he laughed. "She's nothing to me," he conceded. "But she is something to you, isn't she? Would you be so willing to hand yourself over if it were Montoya or Dr. Leland? Perhaps now, you'll be more willing to give it your all."

Edward heard Dr. Leland's voice behind him. "Victor please, we can help you. Let her go!"

"Stay out of this Dr. Leland," Goodman growled. "This is between me and him."

"I couldn't agree more," Edward added. "It is between you and me Victor. She wasn't even a doctor ten years ago. I'm the one you really want to kill."

Goodman said nothing. "This is Commissioner Gordon," Edward heard. "Goodman, we're willing to talk. Let Dr. Young go and I promise we can try to work with you."

Goodman looked Edward dead on and he'd never seen anyone look at him with such hatred. "I do want to kill you," he said. "But not before I make you suffer. I think we'll be leaving now."

"You're surrounded by GCPD's finest," Cash said somewhere in the bull pen. "You're not going anywhere with her." For once, Edward hoped Cash was right.

Almost as soon as Cash finished speaking, an explosion rocked GCPD. The sound and the force of the blast sent Edward to the ground. The world suddenly began to move in slow motion. Edward slowly looked up and looked behind him. The waiting room he'd been in just minutes ago was ablaze. Glass covered the floor of the bullpen and Edward could see bodies. Two officers closest to the waiting room lay still, blood pooling underneath them. Others were staggering to their feet, helping the wounded. By the wall between the waiting room and the bull pen, Edward saw Commissioner Gordon laying face down. What just happened? What just happened? Edward remembered with a flash. The woman. He'd seen a woman on her way out of the waiting room. A woman had left the message about Dr. Young. Goodman did have a partner. They'd planned this. Goodman-Penelope!

The world went back to full speed as Edward pulled himself up. Goodman was gone and he'd taken Penelope with him. Edward thought he heard the voices of Dr. Leland and Cash calling out to him, but he ignored them as he took off down the hall. He remembered there was an emergency exit halfway down the hallway between the bull pen and the interrogation rooms. That's where he'd gone. It took him only a moment to rip open the emergency exit door that led to the parking lot. It would take about a minute for Goodman to get into the parking lot, Edward calculated. Longer since he was dragging along a hostage. Edward had plenty of time to catch up to him. He was out in the parking lot now, in the cold Gotham night. In the darkness, he couldn't see anyone. Where was he? Where was she?

Then he heard the distinctive sounds of tires squealing. Edward watched as a car pulled out of the GCPD parking lot at top speed and his heart sank. Of course, Goodman's partner was waiting for him. Of course she had a car.

They were gone. Goodman was gone and he had Penelope.


	20. The Curse of King Tut, pt 8

The explosion had killed two GCPD officers and wounded six, including Commissioner Gordon. The injuries ranged from critical, in the case of the skittish young officer who had given Edward that fateful message, to relatively superficial, in the case of the Commissioner. They had all been transported to Gotham County General Hospital. Pending the arrival of the deputy commissioner, that left a leadership void at GCPD headquarters. A void that Detective Bullock filled. As soon as the fire department had gotten the blaze in the waiting room under control, Bullock had commandeered an interrogation room where he was hard at work browbeating the man he and many others in GCPD held responsible for the bombing.

"You really expect us to believe," he sneered, glaring down at the man seated on the other side of the table. "That you didn't know what Tut had planned?"

Edward glared back at Bullock. "If I did," he seethed. "Goodman would still be in custody and he wouldn't have a hostage. It's hardly my fault that GCPD's security protocols are as useless as its officers-"

Bullock backhanded him, causing his head to snap back. Edward stifled a curse, then glared defiantly back at Bullock. "That almost hurt."

Bullock's face was scarlet with rage as he pointed a meaty finger in Edward's face. "Two cops are dead! The Commish's in the hospital, our shrink got kidnapped and you're sayin' you had no idea it was a set up!? What happened to you being the smartest guy in Gotham?"

Edward had no response to that as he gingerly rubbed his face. "Are you done with this farce? I have a rogue to catch."

"You aren't going anywhere," Aaron Cash said. He and Montoya stood behind him, ready to shove him back down if he attempted to get up. Cash had been the one to forcibly drag Edward back into GCPD after he'd attempted to chase Goodman. "You've done more than enough."

Edward turned around. "Goodman kidnapped Dr. Young to get to me," he argued. "What do you think he'll do to her if I don't show up?"

Cash's face darkened at the mention of Dr. Young. He looked like he wanted to slug Edward until Montoya intervened. "We're not playing his game," she said. She looked at Bullock. "This isn't getting us anywhere Harv. We need to get more people out on the streets looking for Tut. We're up against a ticking clock."

There was a knock on the interrogation room door and another detective poked her head inside. "Detective Bullock? The deputy commissioner is here."

Bullock nodded. "Alright, let's go." Montoya exited first, following the other detective. Edward made a move to get up, only to feel the weight of Cash's arm pushing him back down.

"You're stayin' put Nigma," Bullock growled. "I told the commissioner we should've brought you in when this happened. Now that's what we're gonna do."

Edward almost couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You're detaining me!? On what charge!?"

"That you're a threat to yourself and others," Bullock said. "We let you run loose and try to play detective and look what happened. Until we catch Tut, you're staying right here." Bullock then lurched towards the door. "There'll be two officers posted outside so don't even think of trying to escape." Bullock left the room. "Come on Cash. Take his cell phone. Don't want him to call up any of his freak friends to bust him out."

Cash looked down at Edward. "Give it here."

Edward met Cash's gaze. Cash was her friend, maybe he'd listen. "I'm the best chance she has," he said. "If you don't let me out, Goodman will kill her. You know that."

There was a flicker of something in Cash's eyes and Edward actually dared to hope he'd reached the other man. This foolish hope was extinguished when Cash said "Hand it over or I'll take it off of you. That will hurt."

Edward hesitated, but slowly reached into his pocket and handed Cash his cell phone. Cash took it, then followed Bullock out of the room. Before he shut the door, he glared back at Edward. "If anything happens to Doc Young, I'm comin' for you." He slammed the door behind him and Edward heard the distinct sound of the door lock.

Now that he was alone, Edward brought his fist down on the table and let out a cry of anger and complete frustration. How had he missed this? How did he not see this coming? He'd been too over-confident, he'd taken Goodman too lightly and now she was-This wasn't his fault. First of all it was Goodman for not rotting away in obscurity like he deserved. It was GCPD's fault for not taking proper security measures when admitting people. It was Montoya's fault for leaving Goodman alone with her. It was Cash's fault for not getting out of his way and delaying him from getting to her. Edward brought his hands up to his face. It was his fault, for drawing her into this mess. She wasn't like him, or Selina or Oswald or Nina and Deirdre or Jonathan. He should have taken greater care to make sure she couldn't be linked to him and like a stupid, reckless idiot, he'd led Goodman straight to her. _I can't help it if she happens to be the one person affiliated with GCPD willing to give me even a modicum of the respect I deserve._ And look at how he'd repaid that. Edward was not a man who felt guilt often, but he could feel it now, almost suffocating him. "That's enough Edward," he said. "Focus. How did Goodman even find out about her? Answer: he or his partner followed you to her." Edward sat straight up. If Goodman had followed him to Penelope, then he may have had him followed earlier than that. _Ellen!_

Edward got out of his chair and rushed over to the door. He began to pound on it. "I want my phone call!"

There was a pause before he heard an officer respond to him. "Yeah and I want a million bucks."

Time to play hardball. Edward took a deep breath and began to shout "I am entitled to a phone call! If I don't get that phone call I'll be suing Gotham City, the GCPD and you personally for all you're worth! By the time my lawyer's done with you, your great-great grandchildren will be paying my estate! Now give me a phone!"

The door opened and a disgruntled looking uniformed officer shoved a cell phone at him. "There! Jesus Christ, will you shut up already!?" The interrogation door slammed and locked again. Once he had the phone in his hands, Edward dialed Ellen's home phone number. The line began to ring and with each ring the phone wasn't picked up, Edward felt his anxiety spike. Pick up, please pick up, it's after dark in the winter, where could you possibly be-At this point, he'd gladly talk to her grandmother if it meant someone actually picked up-

 _"Hello?"_

Edward almost let a cry of relief out. "Ellen?"

 _"Pops? Is that you? Where have you been?"_

"Ellen," he said "There's been an incident. Is your grandmother home?"

 _"No, she got called into work, the news said that that Tut guy blew up GCPD. What the heck's going on? I thought you got that guy!"_

Edward sighed. "I did, but he managed to escape. Listen to me Ellen, stay inside and don't open that door for anyone but your grandmother. Understand?"

 _"Pops, you sound freaked. What happened?"_

Edward pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd tried to keep Ellen out of this part of his life as much as possible, but it seemed he had no choice. "I've been detained by GCPD."

 _"Holy shit. Wait, shouldn't you be calling a lawyer or something?"_

"Ellen, language. And I don't have the time for that." He moved away from the door towards the far corner of the room, just in case the posted officers were listening in. Edward bit his lip. He sincerely hoped that what he was about to do wouldn't backfire. "Ellen," he asked. "Do you still want to help me out on this case?"

There was a slight pause on the other end, until Ellen's voice rang loud and clear. _"Hell yeah! What do you need me to do?"_

Despite the situation, Edward had to smile a bit. "Good girl. I'm going to give you a number. Are you ready?"

 _"Shoot."_

"I need you to call 867-5309. That's Selina Kyle's cell phone number. If she doesn't pick up, keep calling until she does. Tell her that I've been detained by GCPD. Before she secures my release though, tell her to go to my office and get my laptop and the middle cane in my closet. Did you get that?"

 _"Call Selina, tell her to get your laptop and middle cane before she breaks you out. Got it. Anything else?"_

Edward took a glance at the door. He could pick the lock easily enough, but he wouldn't get a foot out the door before the officers outside swarmed him. He needed to thin the herd. "Call the GCPD main line and tell them that you've spotted Tut. Make up an address if you have to, but be careful not to give yourself away."

 _"Prank call the GCPD? Sweet. OK. Is that it?"_

"That's it." Edward looked towards the door. The cop would want his phone back anytime now. "I need to go. Remember what to do?"

 _"Call Selina, get your stuff, call GCPD, bust you out. Got it. When you get Tut, kick him the dick."_

That would be the least Edward would do to the man when he caught him. "Language," he scolded. "And Ellen…thank you." He hung up before she could respond. Just in time, there was a knock on the door.

"You done yet Riddler?"

"Yes." he said. The door opened and the officer from before was there, holding his hand out expectantly. Edward gave him back his phone and the door shut again. Edward crossed back to his seat at the table and sat down. Nothing to do now but to wait for Selina to come get him. Between now and then, he needed to mentally review everything about this case, starting from yesterday. He closed his eyes. Selina had been right. This scheme was too complicated and well organized to be Goodman alone. He had a partner. Edward had passed her on his way into the GCPD waiting room, he was certain of that much. When Edward figured out who she was, he'd find Goodman and Penelope.

Edward began to tap his fingers on the table. Goodman hadn't associated with any known criminals during his eight years of quiet and most of the hench crowd were male besides. A scheme like this too…this was personal. She had to be someone Goodman knew. Someone he trusted. He had no family in Gotham. Most of his friends from his museum days had deserted him after he'd been sent to Arkham. He concentrated as much as he could. The only woman Edward could recall was associated with Goodman from back then was Leigh Carson, his last victim. He couldn't imagine she'd want anything to do with-

Wait. Wait. A flash came to him. He remembered leaning down to untie her. He remembered Goodman lunging for him. He remembered being knocked into the sarcophagus that Goodman had set up to bury Carson in. He remembered her standing by the lever that would lower the lid onto him.

He remembered her pulling it.

 _I think she was trying to impress him._

Son of a Bitch.

That was how Goodman did it. Carson had helped him. She'd been helping him all along. She'd been infatuated with him ten years ago. How could he have forgotten that? Penelope was right too, he thought ruefully. The smallest missed detail could get someone killed. _I'll make it up to you,_ he thought. _I promise. I'll get you out of this._

A noise from outside made Edward's eyes snap open. "We just got an anonymous tip that Goodman's been spotted by the Wall. E. Weasel's on 44th and Market! Move out!" Edward heard the sound of heavy footsteps running down the hallway. He chuckled a bit to himself. Good girl Ellen.

"What about Riddler?" Edward heard one of the officers posted outside ask.

"I'll stay here to watch him. You go with Bullock!" One down. One to go.

Edward checked his watch. It had been thirty minutes since he'd talked to Ellen. Selina should be at his office by now or on her way here. Time to get to work. Slowly, carefully, Edward made his way up to the door and began to pick the lock. Within seconds, Edward had the door unlocked. There was still one officer posted outside though. He needed a distraction or…wait. Why was the building shaking?

Just outside, Edward could hear the officer curse. "The Hell was that-?"

"JESUS CHRIST! GET OUT HERE! THERE'S A TREE GROWING IN THE FRONT PARKING LOT!"

It seemed that Selina enlisted the help of her friends. Wonderful. It seemed to do the trick though, as Edward heard the retreating footsteps of the officer guarding the door. Edward slowly opened it, holding a breath. The hallway was clear. There was no telling how long it would stay that way. After taking a quick look, Edward briskly walked towards the emergency exit he'd run out of not two hours earlier. One more step, then he'd be on his way.

"Edward?"

Edward froze and turned around slowly. Behind him stood Dr. Leland, with a neutral expression on her face. "You're going after Victor."

It wasn't a question. "Yes," he said. "I'm the only one who can stop him, Dr."

Dr. Leland's expression didn't change. "Victor kidnapped Penelope to antagonize you. I want you to tell me the truth Edward: who is she to you?"

Edward hesitated. He wasn't sure of that answer himself at this point. Partner? Colleague? "She's been of assistance to me in the past. I aim to return the favor."

This answer didn't seem to satisfy Dr. Leland, but she nodded just the same. "Go. Try not to kill Victor if you don't have to, but save her Edward. Please."

"I will Dr. Leland." He tipped his hat to her. "It's me, remember?" And with that, Edward opened the emergency exit. The alarm rang loud as he began to run into the parking lot. By his calculation, he had at most, a thirty second head start before officers would begin to pour out, less if his absence had already been discovered. He needed to get to the street as fast as he could before-

"Riddler's loose! Get him!"

Edward swore and increased his pace. It was snowing out now, but the adrenaline kept his blood warm as he ran. He could hear behind him the sounds of officers ordering him to stop, but he kept going. He was out of the parking lot and onto the street now. Where the Hell was Selina!?

The answer came in the form of her car pulling up, almost running him down. It came to a stop and she threw the passenger door open. "Get in! Now!" The persuing officers were about ten seconds behind him. He barely manged to get in the car before Selina took off speeding into the night. Edward buckled in and leaned back, catching his breath.

"This bring back any memories Eddie?" Selina asked.

"Now now Lina," Edward scolded. "Do you have my things?"

"Yeah, I got your laptop and your cane. What the Hell happened? Two hours ago and you had Tut in custody and now he blew up the GCPD?" Selina asked.

"You were right," Edward said. "You were right all along. Goodman had a partner. She planted a bomb in GCPD to help break him out." Edward's grip tightened a bit. "They took Dr. Young."

Selina's face went from confused to concerned. "How did- They must have followed us to that coffee shop."

"That's what I'm thinking," Edward said. "I know who his partner is. It's Leigh Carson."

"The woman he tried to kill? Are you sure?"

"Positive. I remembered back at GCPD. Carson seemed to have an attachment to Goodman ten years ago. She actually tried to help him kill me."

"So she pulled a Harley with Goodman and decided to help him out," Selina mused. "But Eddie, we looked her up yesterday when this all started and you couldn't find any trace of her."

Edward rubbed his chin. That was true. Wait. "I couldn't find any trace of Leigh 'Carson'…Selina, we need to find a place with internet."

"For the last time Barbara, I'm fine," Gordon groused. "I've had worse cuts shaving."

* * *

Barbara shook her head. "Sure Dad. Stay and rest a bit longer though? For me?"

Barbara watched as her father's face softened. "Well, alright-"He was cut off by the sound of his cell phone ringing. "Could you hand me that Barb?"

Barbara pulled the phone out of her father's jacket pocket and handed it to him. "This is Commissioner Gordon-What do you mean Nigma's 'escaped'? Escaped from what?" Gordon's face turned red. "He was detained!? On whose orders!?"

While her father was having a very heated conversation, Barbara wheeled herself to the other side of the room and pulled out her own phone. She quickly texted a number. WHEN ARE YOU AND BRUCE DUE BACK?

NOT FOR ANOTHER EIGHT HOURS. WHAT'S GOING ON?

"What do you mean there's a tree growing in front of GCPD!?"

WE HAVE A SITUATION.

* * *

Selina ignored the stares from the other denizens of the internet cafe and watched as Eddie typed away on his laptop. He was hunched over it, his fingers furiously striking his keyboard. No doubt he was imagining what he'd do to Goodman's face when he caught up to him. She'd known him for over a decade now. She knew that he had two modes when he was angry. There were the more common fits of loud anger, usually when he'd been slighted or felt that his favorite opponent had 'cheated'. She'd seen that for herself yesterday when Tut had called Eddie a has been. There was another mode though, one she was seeing now. When Eddie felt he'd been double crossed, or if someone had made him beyond angry, there was the deliberate, methodical, vengeful Eddie. The Eddie that once he had you in his sights, wouldn't stop until your life was completely destroyed, without him so much as lifting a finger against you. The Eddie that even Selina wouldn't cross. If Goodman's goal with this latest stunt was to rile Eddie up, he'd succeeded. _He has no idea just what he's unleashed…_ Suddenly, Edward slammed his fist down on the desk he was working at, starting the people who were brave enough to continue working around him. "Son of a Bitch! How did I miss this!?"

"Miss what?" Selina asked, looking over his shoulder.

Eddie pointed at the screen. "Look here. Eight years ago, a Leigh Goodman bought a townhouse six blocks away from Goodman's listed address. She changed her name Selina! That's why we couldn't find her earlier!"

Selina raised an eyebrow. That couldn't be a coincidence. She didn't have time to say anything as Eddie packed up his laptop and dashed back to her car. "Eddie!" she called out, running after him. "Hold on! Goodman got the drop on us before! If he and Carson are holed up together-"

"I don't have time for this!" Eddie rounded on her. "Goodman's had her for over two hours! I'll think of something on the way! Now let's go!"

Selina stopped almost dead in her tracks. Eddie's anger wasn't just about the humiliation he'd received at GCPD. It was about Dr. Young too. Just who were they to each other? Shaking her head, she hopped into the driver's seat and started the car. If they survived this, she had a lot of questions for her friend.

* * *

It took all Edward had not to jump out of the car as soon as Selina pulled up to the townhouse. She was right though. If he just burst in, odds were that he'd be running right into a trap. He waited for Selina to stop the car before he unbuckled his seat belt. "We'll go in through the front door together," she said. "We might be able to catch them off guard that way."

Edward nodded. Grabing his cane, he slowly followed Selina up to the front porch. There were no lights on inside. Either no one was there, or they were waiting. He stopped at the front door. He carefully placed a hand on the handle and turned the knob. The door was unlocked. Edward gestured to Selina. "The door's open. Shall we?"

Selina unfurled her whip and took her position next to him. "On three. One."

Edward's grip tightened on the knob. "Two."

"Three!"

Edward turned the knob and threw the door open and he and Selina entered the townhouse together. Apart from the sounds they made as they slowly walked down the hallway and into what Edward presumed was a living room, there was no sign of life. Edward's grip tightened on his cane. He wasn't wrong about this. He couldn't be. To his left, he vaguely saw Selina looking for a light switch. She succeeded, for the lights came on.

The living room was spacious and decorated with an assortment of Egyptian themed knick knacks. The furniture was a rich mahogany and Edward realized that they were walking on an authentic antique rug. That would explain what happened to the money that Carson had embezzled a decade ago.

"I gotta say," Selina drawled as she took the place in. "They've got taste. No offense, but if he and Carson were living it up like this, why was he bothering coming after you?"

"Living off of the charity of the woman who framed you for embezzlement doesn't sound like living it up to me," Edward said shortly. "I wonder why he didn't kill her. At any rate, with men like Goodman, it's not about money." Men like Goodman and him, Edward thought. He was beginning to see more parallels between them the longer he was on this case. "Where are they?"

"Eddie," Selina said carefully. "I don't think they're here."

"No, they have to be! Where else could they have taken her!?" Edward brought a hand up to his head and he felt his fingers digging into his scalp. He couldn't be wrong, he'd been wrong too often on this case already, if he was wrong, she was dead. He almost jumped when he felt Selina's hand press gently on his shoulder.

"We'll find them," she reassured him. "The door was unlocked when we got here. They had to have been by recently. Let's take a look around the place. We should be able to find some clues."

Edward took a gulp of breath to steady his nerves and nodded. "Right. I'll check upstairs. Yell if you find anything." He walked towards the staircase and went up. When he was at the top of the staircase, he entered the first door to the left. He realized upon flicking the switch that he was in what appeared to be an office. His attention was immediately taken by the whiteboard Goodman had set up. In the very center of it was a picture of himself, taken when Wayne had hired him over a year ago. Edward walked up to the whiteboard to take a closer look. Various news articles were taped up on it, detailing all the cases he'd cracked since he started working as a private investigator. Edward crossed over to Goodman's desk, which was also covered by articles, these detailing Edward's past crimes as the Riddler. Edward picked up one that had a picture of his face on it. Goodman had drawn a circle around him in red ink with an X through it. The man really was obsessed with him. A flash came to Edward again of another desk in another office, with papers strewn about just like this , only instead of his picture of him on it, there were pictures of Batman. Cheater.

Edward dropped the article he was holding with a start. Where had that come from? He was about to leave the room when he noticed a small pill bottle half buried under papers on the desk. He picked it up and read the label. It was prescribed to Goodman himself. Anti-psychotic medication perhaps? Edward read the name of the medication. 'Avastin'.

Edward's eyes went wide. That explained it. That explained everything. The poor bastard was- Then he heard Selina's voice from downstairs. "Eddie! Get down here!"

He placed the pill bottle in his waistcoat pocket before running back down the stairs. He felt his nerves working back up as he thought about what Selina might have found. Don't be blood. Don't be a body. He arrived back into the living room, only to find it empty. "Selina? Where are you?"

"In the kitchen! Come take a look at this!"

Edward followed her voice into the equally spacious kitchen. Selina stood there in front of the long kitchen table. The table was covered with jewelry. Egyptian jewelry. "The contents of the Tut exhibition, I take it?"

Selina nodded, then stood to the side to allow Edward access. "Eddie, there's more." She gestured to four canopic jars arranged on the table. Edward's breath caught in his throat when he saw what was draped across one of them. Penelope's GCPD ID. Edward took it and held it between his fingers. They had been here.

Selina handed him a note. "This was on the table too." Edward read it and his eyes narrowed. There was an address scrawled on the top and the message below read. COME HERE TO FACE YOUR FINAL JUDGEMENT. COME ALONE. IF YOU ARE NOT HERE BEFORE MIDNIGHT, SHE WILL FACE IT FOR YOU. Edward clnched the note in his fist and threw it back onto the table.

"Eddie," he heard Selina say. "You know this is a trap."

Edward scoffed. "Of course it is Lina. But I have to go." He looked back at Penelope's badge and remembered what had happened outside of Tetch's hideout that summer. _You asked me once what it would take for people to give you the benefit of the doubt. This is your benefit of the doubt. Don't waste it…_

"I owe her that much."


	21. The Curse of King Tut, pt 9

Edward had vaguely recognized the address when he read it on the note. As Selina's car drove further down the river front and a dilapidated warehouse came into view, it dawned on Edward exactly where they were going. "Stop the car here."

Selina did as Edward said, parking the car about five hundred feet from the warehouse. Edward could see no one hanging around the warehouse, nor along the side streets or water front. The only light about came from the street lights and a solitary light coming from the second story of the warehouse. Just outside the warehouse, he could see a parked car. Edward's eyes narrowed. It was the same car that had pulled out of GCPD's rear parking lot earlier that evening. They were here. Edward checked his watch. It was just past ten. He was early.

"Eddie," Selina said, "Not that I don't have any faith in you, but are you sure this is a good idea?"

That was a loaded question if he'd ever heard one. "No," he answered truthfully. "But I don't see that many other options available to us. Goodman's made his instructions clear and he's not afraid to kill. For the time being, I'll have to play along with this game. Wait about half an hour, then call GCPD and follow me in. Hopefully, he'll be too focused on me to notice you."

Selina didn't looked pleased with this. "That's assuming Goodman's willing to play by the rules Eddie. I'm not so sure he is."

Neither was Edward. There was a very good chance that if he went in alone, Goodman would kill him. Anything other than his apparent compliance with Goodman's demands though and Penelope was as good as dead. He'd risked her life enough for one day. "Well," he said with as much bravado he could muster, "Now or never."

Selina nodded. "Be careful Eddie."

Edward sucked in a quick breath, grabbed his cane and opened the passenger door. He walked down the empty street, only vaguely aware of the winter chill in the air. He didn't look back at Selina's car. As he drew closer to the warehouse, his mind wandered back to what had happened here ten years. He'd come here to save a woman then too. This time though, there was no Batman to fall back on. He'd be facing Goodman on his own. Edward sighed. He supposed that did make him Batman now. God help them.

When he came up to the front of the warehouse, he realized that there was no door. Instead, the walls outside were covered in hieroglyphics. Edward frowned for a moment, then remembered. It had been like this the last time too. He set his cane down and began to feel around the glyphs, looking for the mechanism that would open the door. It took a minute or two, but Edward finally succeeded and a slab opened in front of him. Edward took one last look back at Selina's parked car. In the darkness, he could just make out her shape, watching him intently. Edward took one last deep breath and entered the warehouse. The door shut behind him and Edward found himself in complete darkness.

* * *

"Are you sure he'll come?"

Goodman didn't answer the woman, who Penelope assumed was Leigh Carson, and instead continued to sit at the large monitor. Various security camera feeds from inside the warehouse flashed onto the screen, but there was no sign of any life.

"He'll be here," Goodman answered. "I completely humiliated him in GCPD. He'll be aching for revenge." Goodman turned in his chair to look back at Penelope. "And I saw the look on his face when I took her. He'll come for her."

Penelope sat towards the back of the old office room, securely tied to a chair. Any remark she might have made was prevented by the gag tied around her mouth. She settled for a withering glare at Goodman. She would not give him the satisfaction of showing how frightened she actually was. Goodman just laughed. "Defiant, aren't we? I can see why Riddler developed a fondness for you."

A fondness. Hardly. Edward may show show up to salvage his wounded ego, but he wouldn't come for her sake.

Carson didn't seem to look convinced. "And what if he doesn't find the message we left?"

A sick grin came to Goodman's face. "Then we'll send another one to his office. We'll start sending her back to him, piece by piece, until he comes." Penelope felt her skin crawl. She felt fully justified now in lacking any sympathy for the man while she'd been conducting his interview. Carson said nothing in response, but looked back at the monitor. What was motivating her, Penelope wondered. She'd been hovering over Goodman since they brought her here, attending to his every need. A codependent romantic relationship, like with Harley Quinn? Goodman seemed to treat her better than Quinn's object of desire at least.

A beeping noise distracted her from her musings and Goodman turned back to look at the monitor. "He's here." Penelope leaned forward as far as she could to get a better look. Sure enough, on the security feed of the main entrance of the warehouse, there stood Edward Nigma. He appeared to be examining the room as well as he could in the darkness. _"Alright Goodman!"_ Penelope heard his voice call out, the audio feed distorting it somewhat. _"I'm here! Come out!"_

Goodman flipped a switch on his control panel and the light came on in the main entrance. Edward nearly jumped at the sudden light. Penelope could him pick up his cane like a club, before he realized he wasn't about to be ambushed and slowly lowered it back down. "Welcome Riddler. Do you remember this place?"

 _"I remember,"_ Edward said. _"I remember this is where I defeated you the first time. I'm looking forward to making it 2-0."_

"Careful Riddler," Goodman warned. "I seem to recall you needing assistance last time. There will be no Dark Knight to save you, or a Cat Burglar. You, and you alone must face your final judgement."

 _"Not me alone,"_ Edward answered. _"Before we go any further Goodman, I want proof of life. Where's Dr. Young?"_

"She is with me," Goodman answered. "You'll get her back when and if you complete your final judgement. Now-"

 _"I want to talk to her."_ Edward interrupted. Even with the distortion, Penelope could hear the anger in his voice. _"Let me speak with her and then you can go on about your 'final judgement'."_

Goodman gave Carson and short nod and she left his side to walk behind Penelope. She loosened the gag. "Ten seconds," she said. "Let him know you're here."

As soon as her mouth was free, Penelope took a quick breath. "Edward?" she asked.

Penelope saw on the feed Edward's body language relax somewhat. He really had been concerned for her. "Good evening Dr. Young," he said, almost conversationally. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Penelope answered. "You shouldn't have come here Edward, Goodman's going to kill you!"

 _"He can try,"_ Edward chuckled. His tone grew serious again. _"I'll get you out of this. I promise."_

Penelope didn't know what to say to that. "Edward," she said. "Edward I-mmph!" Carson tied the gag back on and walked back over to Goodman.

"Satisfied?" Goodman asked rhetorically. "Now if you want to speak with her again, you must pass through the Final Judgement."

 _"I'm listening."_

"Good. Do you remember the traps you had to go through last time? No matter if you do or don't. I've changed them. There are twelve gates a soul must pass through in the Egyptian afterlife. You may consider this the first gate. You will have to journey through the other gates in the Underworld and pass my tests. If you survive, you can have Dr. Young back. If you fail, she will join you in the Afterlife!"

Edward seemed to pause to consider his options, what few he had. Finally, he said. _"I'll do it. But this is your first and only warning: if you lay one finger on Dr. Young before I get there, you won't go back to interrogation. You'll be going to the GCPD morgue."_

Penelope's eyes widened at the venom in Edward's voice. Edward wasn't just doing this out of wounded pride. He was doing this out of genuine regard for her safety. She wasn't just an asset to him. At the console, Goodman just laughed. "You'd better get started. Good luck, Riddler." He typed in a command and Penelope saw a door to Edward's left open. Edward hesitated for a moment, before walking through the doorway. As soon as he crossed the threshold, the door shut behind him. Goodman looked back at Penelope and gave her a sadistic grin. "Now it begins, Dr. In a matter of minutes, the Riddler's darkness will be forever cleansed from this world. I will be the man who delivered Gotham from the Riddler."

Penelope tried not to shudder at the conviction in Goodman's voice and instead tried to see if she could spot Edward on the other security camera feeds. Edward, she thought. Be careful.

* * *

Edward had to suppress a scoff when Goodman told him what his 'Final Judgement' was. Death traps. How original. Send the Prince of Puzzlers into a warehouse of death traps? Death traps that he had probably invented? Goodman really must have lost his mind. Still, he kept a slow, steady pace as he walked down the hallway. Goodman had gotten the drop on him twice in the past two days. Neither he or Penelope could afford for it to happen a third time.

Edward came to a the end of the hallway and saw a door. Above it was an inscription that read: ONLY THE WORTHY MAY ENTER HERE. Edward rolled his eyes. He'd better be considered worthy, this was the only door forward. Slowly, carefully, he turned the handle on the door and opened it. He found himself walking down a narrow, darkened hallway. Edward was on full alert as he made his way down. Any moment and he'd be running into something.

"Do you think yourself worthy to meet the Gods, Riddler?" he heard Goodman's voice crackle over the loudspeaker. _"Only the worthy may continue on. Enemies of the gods must be dealt with by Atum before they may continue above."_

Edward paused. Above...Edward pointed the head of his cane, extended it as far in front of him as possible and tapped it against the floor. He heard it echoing against the floor. He continued on slowly down the hallway, using the cane as an impromptu walking stick. Finally, about ten feet down, when he moved to tap the cane down, he came across empty space where the floor should be. "Another trap door? Seriously?" he complained. He looked down to see if there was any way he could determine the size of the hole and saw a glow. There was a fire at the bottom of the hole about six feet down. Lovely. As his eyes adjusted to the light from the fire, he realized that he could faintly see the floor beyond the hole. There was about a four foot gap between him and that floor. Edward did a few quick mental calculations, then he threw his cane across the open space. He heard it land with a metallic clang on the other side of the hole. He then took off his hat and placed it by where the floor opened up to serve as a marker. He did like this hat, but sacrifices had to be made. Edward backed up towards the entrance of the hallway.

 _"Leaving so soon?"_ he heard Goodman taunt. _"Perhaps you truly are unworthy."_

Edward scoffed. He was right where he'd entered. This should be far enough. He broke out into a run. He had just one shot at this. As soon as he saw the dim outline of his hat, he bent his knees slightly and jumped. He landed just two inches shy of the gulf and wobbled a bit before regaining his balance.

 _"Impressive,"_ he heard Goodman drawl. _"You're not known for your physicality."_

Edward leaned down to pick up his cane. "You don't survive being a Rogue for as long as I did without keeping yourself in somewhat decent physical shape. And if you think a mere trap door will be enough to defeat me, you clearly need to spend more time in Arkham."

The only response he heard was a low laugh. _"Egotistical to the end. The Gods will not be pleased with you. Dare you continue on?"_

Edward began to walk down the hall again. He couldn't afford to let himself get distracted. A minute later and he found himself at another door. The inscription above this door read, SINNERS WILL BURN IN THE LAKE OF FIRE. Edward paused to consider this. He'd never been much of a student of Egyptian mythology, but he knew this didn't sound good. He placed his hand to the door. The door was cool to the touch. Slowly, Edward opened the door.

In front of him, much like the last room, was a darkened hallway. This one was different however. Alongside the wall, vents stuck out, six on each side. At the end of the hall, by the door, Edward saw the last two vents shoot out a burst of fire. The next two vents shot out flames and so on, until the last two vents, just inches from where Edward stood, came to life. The flames shot out for a few seconds, before shutting off, then the process began in reverse. Edward watched as the flames at the end turned off before he groused "This is hardly what I'd call a 'lake of fire' Goodman."

 _"It will do. Now, how will the so-called King of Conundrums make his way through here?"_

Edward didn't move. Instead, he watched the vents closely. He'd done something similar against Batman once. If Goodman was ripping him off, then the vents should have a timing. One one thousand, two one thousand...

The vents came on and shot flame out for exactly five seconds, then shut off. The next vents down did the same, as did the other three pairs. Edward continued to watch intently, committing the timing to his memory. The vents followed the pattern in reverse as well. Edward continued to watch, ready to catch any change in the pattern. There was none.

 _"Why are you hesitating? Do you not want your Dr. back? She would make a worthier offering to the Gods than you."_

Edward grit his teeth. _Focus Edward,_ a voice that sounded like Jonathan said. _He's baiting you. Don't let him distract you._ Edward continued to watch the vents for maybe five minutes more, until he was satisfied that the timing was consistent. Now, he just had to wait for the right time. The vents closest to him shot out flame for five seconds, then went cold. Not yet. They turned on again, then went cold. The next row of vents behind them shot out flame, then went cold. Not yet. The middle row shot out flame. Now. Edward broke out into a run as the middle vents went cold. Just as before, he had one shot to get this right. He reached the end of the hallway just as the last vents went cold. He had only a second or two to get to the door before they came on again. Just as the vents were beginning to turn on again, Edward threw himself out the door and opened it. He could feel the heat from the flames just behind him as he shut the door.

For a long moment, Edward leaned against the door, panting. After he caught his breath he began to laugh. "I thought this was supposed to be a challenge!" he shouted. "So far, your so-called 'Final Judgement's' not doing anything but making me look like the genius I am!"

For a long moment, there was only silence. Finally, Goodman spoke in a low tone. _"Do you know what the process of mummification entails?"_

Edward hesitated. "I'm not sure I follow."

 _"The embalmer would remove a piece of the brain by inserting a metal hook through the nostrils. Then, they would cut open the body near the abdomen and remove all of the internal organs. The lungs, intestines, stomach and liver would be placed into canopic jars, much like the canopic jars you found in my home."_

Edward's eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat. Goodman hadn't just been telling him where he'd taken Penelope. He'd also told him what exactly he intended to do to her.

 _"You understand now, don't you? That is the fate that awaits your Dr, should you fail. Except, she will not have the luxury of being dead when I begin the process. Nor will I be quick by removing her brain first. She will be alive when I begin to cut into her. She will die screaming in agony as I pull out her organs and it will be your fault. You may want to keep that in mind as you continue through my Gates."_

"You sick son of a bitch," Edward seethed. "She's the only innocent person in this building. How dare you-"

 _"How dare I?"_ Goodman repeated mockingly. _"How dare I what? Isn't this precisely what you did to Batman for all those years? Threaten innocent people to challenge him? What, pray tell is the difference between us?"_

Edward had no response to that. It did occur to him though that Penelope must have heard every bit of what Goodman had said. "I won't let him touch you," he said. "I'll be there shortly."

 _"Your arrogance will be your downfall,"_ Goodman chided. _"Now, I believe you have nine more gates to get through. I suggest you hurry."_

Edward ran down the hallway.

* * *

It took every bit of self control Penelope had not to cry out when Goodman had told Edward what he would do to her. That's what Goodman would want, she thought. All the same, she was terrified. For the first time since that horrible night in Arkham, her fate was out of her hands. All she could do was trust that Edward would get to her in time, just like he promised. As she watched Edward's progress through the warehouse, she began to feel hope. He was moving with a focus and determination she hadn't seen in him before. He'd just cleared the Fourth Gate, in less time than the last one. In her place standing next to Goodman, Carson was getting visibly nervous.

"He's going through this more quickly than we thought." she said, her hand on Goodman's shoulder. Penelope allowed herself a little vindictiveness.

Goodman remained impassive. "Good," he said. "I want him at his best. That will make my ultimate victory over him even sweeter."

Penelope took her eyes off the monitor to really look at Goodman. All throughout this ordeal, he'd shown no emotion as Edward got through his challenges. Not even when he was taunting Edward did he betray any anger or nervousness. He had all the appearance of a man in total control. This made her nervous. Goodman had something planned.

Sure enough, Goodman began to laugh as Edward made his way out of the Fourth Gate and towards the Fifth. "Don't concern yourself, my Ankhesenamun. Riddler is about to meet his final challenge."

Penelope frowned. Final challenge? Goodman had said that Edward would have to go through twelve gates-he lied. Of course he did. Goodman had been playing Edward ever since his reappearance. Why would he tell the truth now?

Carson's nervous expression was replaced with one of smug satisfaction, confirming Penelope's worst fears. "You're right. Even if he is smarter than we thought he was, there's no way he'll survive this."

Goodman reached over to give her hand a light squeeze, before he pressed the intercom button. "This is your most important challenge of all Riddler. You will weigh your heart on the scales you find in there. If your heart is lighter than that feather, you may pass through. If not...well. We both know what will happen."

On the monitor, Penelope watched as Edward entered the room. It was large and almost barren, save for the scales in the center of the room. Off to the right corner of the room, Penelope could just barely make out something large. Her attention was soon captured by Goodman's dark chuckling. "All he has to do is touch those scales and it's over."

Penelope's eyes widened. It was a trap! She had to warn Edward! She frantically began to rub her bound wrists against the back of the chair, to no avail. If she could just get the gag off, somehow... She leaned back as far as she dared and rubbed her head against the chair's headrest. On the monitor, she could see Edward walking closer to the scales, before he stopped right in front of them. Don't touch it Edward, it's a trick! Edward reached his hand out, and Penelope's heart sank into her stomach. At the last second however, he pulled it back.

"What's wrong Riddler?" Goodman taunted. "Did you find a puzzle even you can't solve?"

Both Goodman and Carson were too focused on him to notice that Penelope had almost worked her gag off. Just a few more seconds...the gag came loose and Penelope took in a sharp breath of air.

 _"I can't exactly cut my heart out Goodman,"_ Edward said over the intercom. _"When I left riddles for Batman, I made sure they had actual solutions."_

Goodman pressed the intercom button. Before he could say anything though, Penelope cried out as loud as she could, "Edward get out of there! It's a trap!"

* * *

Edward hadn't quite been sure what to make of the Fifth Gate. For starters, unlike the last few rooms, this one didn't have a proper door. Just an empty space for him to walk into. When he walked into the room, he noticed that unlike the previous three challenges, there didn't appear to be an exit. It was possible that as soon as he solved the scales issue that a hidden door would open. That's how his own mazes had worked after all. Still though, as he entered the room, he felt suspicious. That suspicion was confirmed as soon as he saw the scales. Sure enough, one had a feather on them. There wasn't anything else in the room that he could use to put in the other scale though. He reached out to grab the feather when something else caught his eye. In the far right corner of the room was a sarcophagus, on a large push cart. Now Edward was very suspicious. He pulled his hand back.

 _"What's wrong Riddler?"_ he heard Goodman ask. _"Did you find a puzzle even you can't solve?"_

"I can't exactly cut my heart out Goodman," he complained. "When I left riddles for Batman, I made sure they had actual solutions."

Edward heard the telltale crackle of the intercom system, but instead of Goodman's voice, he heard Penelope cry out _"Edward get out of there! It's a trap!"_

Well, that confirmed it. Edward turned to run back out, only for a sliding door to cut off the exit. A trick room! Edward banged on the door to no avail. "Goodman! This isn't what I agreed to!"

 _"In place of the Gods, I have judged you,"_ Goodman's voice sounded. _"And I have found you unworthy. You'll have 20 seconds to prepare yourself for the Afterlife. Goodbye, Riddler."_

Edward then heard the distinctive sound of something ticking. The scales were a bomb. Of course they were. Edward's eyes darted around the room, looking for any kind of escape. His eyes caught the sarcophagus. Edward ran like Hell toward it.

Seconds later, the scales exploded, sending shrapnel and flame around the room.

* * *

Back in the office, Penelope could do nothing but watch in horror as Goodman trapped Edward in the room and activated the bomb. Edward has dashed outside the camera's line of sight as the bomb went off. Goodman turned back to meet her horrified gaze with a smug grin. "Your loyalty to him was touching, Dr. Young. But Riddler was doomed the moment he set foot here. Now, he truly is meeting his final judgement."

Penelope felt tears well up in her eyes. "No," she whispered. "No! Edward!"


	22. The Curse of King Tut: CASE CLOSED

Goodman switched off the monitor and let out a triumphant laugh. Carson leaned down and the pair exchanged a long kiss. "It's over. You did it. I'm so proud of you Victor." She said when they parted. Goodman smiled at her.

Penelope had sat in silence, overcome with guilt over Edward's fate. Now, seeing their display, her sadness was replaced with anger. "You won't get away with this," she hissed at the pair. "Either of you. GCPD will be combing the city for you. You'll never get out without being caught."

Carson looked up at her with disinterest. "What should we do with her Victor? Use her as a bargaining chip?"

"Leave her to me," Goodman answered. "Go to the chamber and collect Riddler's cane. I want to use it as a trophy."

"What about his body?"

"If anything is left, we'll place it in the sarcophagus and display it for all of Gotham to see. A fitting end for him."

Carson nodded and then walked out of the office. Goodman than stood out of his chair, picked up his hook and walked towards Penelope.

* * *

Edward had just managed to get himself inside the sarcophagus and shut the lid when the bomb exploded. It was a tight fit, but it offered him just enough protection from the blast. He could feel the force and the sound cramped inside of the ancient coffin. His ears rang from the sound for a long while afterwards, until he finally worked up the nerve to lift the lid and poke his head out. The floor was covered with shrapnel and the scales themselves had been obliterated, leaving only a burning base behind. Edward scanned the room and breathed out a sigh of relief. A second or two later and he'd have been riddled with shrapnel and bleeding out on the floor, if the bomb didn't kill him outright. Edward lifted himself out of the sarcophagus and stepped down, taking care not to step on any of the debris. First thing first, he needed to figure out how to get out of the room. Goodman clearly didn't intend for him to survive this challenge, so he had the element of surprise on his side. He examined the door, but couldn't find any way to open it. He frowned. If Goodman thought he was dead, then he no longer had any incentive to keep Penelope alive. He needed to hurry.

Just as he took a step back the door slid open. Before him stood a woman with dark brown hair, dressed in Egyptian garb similar to Goodman's. Her jaw dropped when she made eye contact with him. "You! How-?"

Edward smirked. "Ms. Leigh Carson, I assume?"

Carson moved to dart back from where she came, but Edward was moved quicker, grabbing her arm and pulling her back into the room. "Now now," he scolded. "Is that any way to greet the man who helped save your life ten years ago?"

Carson's face reddened, before she grabbed onto his coat. "Thank God!" she cried out dramatically. "Victor's gone mad! He was so jealous of your success he swore he'd stop at nothing to destroy you! He threatened me!" She looked up at him, batting her eyelashes at him. "I'm so glad you're here." Edward didn't miss how practiced she seemed. Or the fact that her hand that was holding onto him for dear life was moving towards a pocket on her dress. Edward chuckled.

"My dear," he said. "I'm an amnesiac, not an idiot."

Carson's eyes narrowed, then she pulled a small dagger out of her pocket. Edward unceremoniously threw her to the ground and unscrewed the top of his cane. Just as Carson moved to get up, he pointed the long blade of his sword cane at her throat. Carson dropped her blade and looked up at Edward. She genuinely looked afraid.

"Mine's bigger," he taunted. He inched the blade closer. One more inch and it would pierce her throat. "Now, I'm only going to ask you this once: where are they?"

* * *

"I want you to know," Goodman said as he advanced towards Penelope. "That I hold no real personal animosity towards you."

With every step he took, Penelope could feel her own heart hammer in her chest. She struggled again, but the ropes held tight. She glared at Goodman as he stopped right in front of her. "Of course you don't," she bit out. "That's why you kidnapped and are about to kill me."

Goodman roughly grabbed her chin and forced her to look up at him. "You chose to associate with Riddler," he said. "You should have known what would happen as a result. His darkness would have corrupted you, if it hasn't already." Goodman raised the hook up and Penelope could see the dried blood on the sharp edge. A fresh wave of fear flooded through her and she shut her eyes. She didn't want to die, not like this. "When you see him in the Afterlife, send him my regards."

"You can send them yourself Goodman!"

Penelope's eyes opened and she looked past Goodman to see Edward standing in the doorway, alive and well. She'd never been happier to see the man. "Edward!" she cried out.

"I told you I'd be here," Edward said, entering the room. His gaze hardened as he looked from her to Goodman. "Now, I've completed your 'Final Judgement'. Let. Her. Go."

Goodman let go of Penelope's face and staggered forward. His face had gone white when he saw Edward enter the room. It was the most genuine emotion she'd seen out of the man since she'd been brought here. "You-no! NO!" Goodman roared. "You can't be alive!"

"And yet, here I am," Edward said, taking another step towards Goodman. "Did you really think," he said in a cruel, mocking tone "That your pathetic attempts to steal from my playbook would defeat me?"

Goodman gnashed his teeth. "How dare you," he muttered. "You washed up, narcissistic fool! You will not deny me my revenge!" Goodman lunged forward and slashed his hook at Edward's throat. Edward took a step back and brought his cane up to avoid the attack, but Goodman balled his other hand into a fist and punched him in the face, sending him crashing against the monitor.

"Edward!" Penelope cried out again, this time in fear for his safety.

Edward barely had time to react to the blow before he felt Goodman's hands wrap around his throat. "The Gods have found you unworthy!" he heard Goodman shout. "You will be punished! You will pay for everything you did to me!"

Edward felt his lungs begin to burn from the lack of oxygen. Before his vision went black, he heard Penelope's voice calling out his name desperately. That was all the incentive he needed. He brought his right arm down hard over Goodman's arms. Goodman's grip loosened just enough for Edward to surge forward breaking free of the hold. Edward punched Goodman square in the face. "That's for calling me a has been," he said. He punched Goodman in the stomach before the other man had time to breathe. "That's for trying to kill me!" Once Goodman was bunched over, Edward grabbed his shoulders and brought his knee up, hitting Goodman square in the groin. Goodman collapsed to the floor and didn't try to get up again. "That's," Edward hissed, "For bringing her into the middle of this." Goodman didn't reply, instead groaning in pain. Panting from the exertion and the adrenaline, Edward picked up his cane from where he'd dropped it during the scuffle. He unscrewed the top of it, bring out the blade.

"You weren't like this," Goodman moaned out. "You weren't like this then. How?"

Edward stepped over Goodman. "I was a younger man then," he said. "Less experienced. I treated you and the whole experience like a bit of a lark. I'm older now. I've forgotten more than you could ever hope to accomplish." Edward raised the blade. It would be so easy to put Goodman out of everyone's misery. Given the fate Goodman was facing, it might even be a mercy. "And you've made me very angry." Goodman lay flat on his back, staring straight up at Edward as he stood over him. He offered no resistance. Edward could stab him through the heart...

"Don't!"

Edward turned sharply at the sound. Penelope was watching him, her blue eyes wide. "Edward don't!" she called out again. "He's not worth it!"

Slowly, Edward nodded. "No," he said, walking towards where she sat. "No, he's not." Edward walked behind the chair and using the sword cane, carefully cut Penelope free. "Are you alright Dr. Young?"

She nodded as she stood up. "I'm fine," she said, rubbing the circulation back into her wrists. "What about you?"

Edward had to smile a bit. He'd never complain about her showing concern for him ever again. "I've had capers with Selina that left more bruises."

Penelope shot him an annoyed look. Then went back to rubbing her wrists. Edward frowned when he saw the angry red marks around them. They looked painful. Impulsively, Edward gently took Penelope's wrists into his own hands and began to rub. Penelope let him, too stunned to voice any potential complaint. "I'm alright," he said. "I promise." Penelope looked up at him, her eyes showing an emotion he'd never seen from her before. She opened her mouth to say something, when a groaning caught their attention.

It was Goodman, making an attempt to draw himself up. Edward stepped in front of Penelope. "Stay behind me." Selina should be here by now, along with GCPD. "It's over Goodman," he said. "I've dispatched your partner. You don't stand a chance against me."

"My Ankhesenamun," Goodman moaned out. "You-"

Edward rolled his eyes. "No, I didn't kill her." Not that he wouldn't have been justified, given how much trouble she'd been. And considering what Goodman had threatened to do to Penelope, he really had no room to complain. "I merely left her locked in the room you had me trapped in. She should be just fine."

Goodman tried to get up again, before falling back onto his knees. "This is only the beginning," he said. "I'll be back. I will not stop until my revenge is complete...or until you kill me."

Edward raised an eyebrow. "While I admire your determination, I doubt you'll have the time." Edward reached into his pocket and pulled out the vial of medication he'd found earlier. "This was your only real shot at me. That's why you put so much effort into this."

"What is that?" Penelope asked.

Edward handed the medication bottle to her. "Avastin. A medication taken intravenously, used to treat-"

"Cancer," Penelope finished. "Oh my God." Penelope looked down at Goodman. "You're sick."

Goodman shook his head. "No. I'm dying. I was diagnosed with Glioblastoma two years ago. A year ago, I was pronounced terminal."

"That's about the time you started looking up my old crimes," Edward continued. "You had nothing to lose, so why not try taking me down with you? Was that what you were thinking?"

Goodman nodded. "I meant what I said to Dr. Young in GCPD. You ruined my life. I used to be someone. Now look at what I've been reduced to!"

"You did this to yourself," Edward said sharply. "You could have stayed in comfortable retirement with Leigh Carson until you met your end."

Goodman shook his head. "I would have died completely forgotten, while you lived on in a life you don't deserve." Goodman settled onto the floor. "I probably would have died in Arkham, yes. But I would have died happy." He let out a laugh. "I would have lived on forever as the man who defeated the Riddler." Goodman continued to laugh, until his laughs turned into sobs. For a long time, Edward stood in silence watching him with revulsion and something else Edward couldn't quite identify. He thought that he'd feel satisfaction in finally breaking Goodman, but watching him break down like this made Edward think back to another time and place, where he was on the ground and Batman was staring down at him...What was it? Brain tumor?...I used to be somebody in this town...I was going to show them all and I did...What time is it when an elephant sits on your fence?

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand on his arm. "Edward?" Penelope was looking up at him in concern. "What is it?"

Edward shook his head. If he was about to remember something, it had passed. "Nothing," he said. "Just have a bit of a better understanding of what Batman went through for all those years." He looked down again at Goodman, who was still blubbering on the floor. "I'd like to think I wasn't so pathetic."

Penelope said nothing in response, but judging by the expression on her face, she wasn't quite convinced. Edward stared back at her, neither of them knowing quite what to say to the other. Edward finally broke the ice. "I-"

"Am I interrupting something?"

Edward stifled a curse. "Selina," he drawled. "Glad to see you finally join us."

Selina remained where she was, leaned against the doorway. "Took me a little bit to get through those traps Tut had set up for you." She looked at Goodman with no small amount of disgust. "Seems you had everything under control."

"Of course I did. Is GCPD here?"

"Yeah, I think they're getting SWAT set up. You'd better get out there. I'll wait for you by the car. Here's your hat back by the way" Selina tossed Edward's hat to him, then she gave Penelope a cheeky wave before she left. "Nice seeing you again Doc."

Penelope flushed and Edward had to laugh a bit as he placed his hat back on his head. "Ready to go?"

Penelope nodded. "God yes."

* * *

Goodman and Carson had been taken back into custody and were now on route directly to Blackgate. Penelope was being examined by paramedics, Dr. Leland at her side. And Edward was facing down another old nemesis of his. "You're in for it now Nigma," Bullock bellowed. "Just you wait until the Commish gets here! We'll have you back in custody so fast-"

"What do you mean, 'back in custody'?" Penelope interjected, walking away from the paramedics. "Was he detained? On what grounds?"

"He was interfering with official police business doc," Bullock answered. "And I still don't buy for a moment that he didn't know anything about the bomb!"

Edward rolled his eyes. "This is getting tedious Bullock. If you want me in custody so badly, then just take me. We both know I'll be out by morning."

Bullock was about to say something else when Gordon's voice interrupted. "That's enough! Both of you!" Gordon stormed towards them. Penelope quickly moved to speak with him.

"Commissioner, I-"

Gordon held his hand up. "It's alright Dr. Young." He glared at Bullock. "Detective Bullock, finish processing the crime scene. Believe me, we'll be having a very long conversation about this back at headquarters." Bullock looked a bit sheepish at Gordon's scolding and did as he was told. Gordon than turned his attention to Edward. "As for you Nigma..." Edward waited. "Go home," Gordon finally said. "I think you've had a busy enough day."

Edward knew an order when he heard one. He exchanged one last, long look with Penelope before he turned on his heel and walked away from the warehouse. Selina had moved her car to a side street a few hundred feet away and was waiting for him. "Where to now? Home?"

"Not yet," Edward said. "There's a stop I'd like you to make first."

* * *

Much to Joan's chagrin, Penelope had refused to be looked at for long by the paramedics. She wanted to go home. Aaron had dropped her off at her apartment not long after Gordon had officially cleared the crime scene. As soon as she was inside, she sank down onto her sofa. She was absolutely physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted by her ordeal. Most of all, she was once again completely bewildered by Edward Nigma. Once again, she owed him her life. Unlike the memorial, which was an impulsive act, he'd knowingly and willingly risked his life for her. On some level, he did care about her. It was a dangerous thought. Penelope sighed and checked her watch. It was two in the morning. She needed to sleep. A knock at the door put any thoughts of that to an end. Penelope cautiously walked up to her door and peered through the peephole. She caught a glimpse of the last person she expected to see and opened her door. "Edward?"

Edward stood just outside her door and tipped his hat to her. "Dr. Young."

"What are you doing here?"

"Just wanted to check up on you."

"You didn't have to do that."

Edward just shrugged. "What sort of gentleman would I be if I didn't?" Edward paused a bit and fidgeted with his cane. He looked almost nervous. "I-" he started. "This isn't easy for me to say. I...realized tonight that you've taken quite a few risks on my behalf over the past few months and that I haven't been as appreciative of that as I should have been. It also occurred to me that your association with me led to you being put in danger unnecessarily. That was never my intention and I promise not to let it happen again."

Penelope just blinked at him, not sure she'd really heard any of what he had said. "Are-are you trying to apologize?"

Edward frowned a bit. "I said it wasn't easy for me to say. But yes. I'm sorry for what happened tonight. And yesterday."

Edward Nigma sincerely apologizing. That was something Penelope never thought she'd hear. "Well, thank you for that Edward. And," she added softly. "Thank you for saving my life."

Then, Penelope did something she had never done before. She smiled at Edward Nigma. It was a small smile, but it was a smile nonetheless. The impact it had on Edward was immediate. He looked almost stunned for a moment, before he smiled back.

"Well," he said in a more jovial tone. "All in a night's work." His face grew serious again. "If you don't want to continue our partnership after this, I wouldn't hold it against you."

Penelope's answer was immediate. "I won't settle for being treated like an informant. And I want to be treated with as much respect as you would with Selina Kyle or any of your other associates. But...I still want to work with you."

Edward smiled again. "Done. Well then," he gave her a sweeping bow. "Adieu, Penelope." Edward straightened up and walked down the hall, leaving Penelope to realize that that was the first time he'd ever referred to her by her first name.

* * *

Edward walked back to the car with a slight spring in his step. All that nonsense he'd been through for the past two days, seeing her smile had almost made it worth it. Almost. Selina arched her brow with amusement as he clambered back into the passenger's seat. "I take it your conversation went well?"

"She's still agreeing to be my partner, yes." Selina smirked a bit. "What?"

"Eddie, you're blushing."

Was he? Edward felt his face. It did feel a bit warm. "Must be the cold. You can drop me at my apartment now."

Selina rolled her eyes. "Say please Eddie."

"Sorry. Please."

"An apology? You really are in a good mood," Selina teased. "By the way, I never did get those artifacts Goodman and Carson stole."

Edward's face fell. "Oh. I suppose that means I'll owe you a favor, doesn't it?"

"A favor? You owe me two: one for the trinkets, one for me convincing Ivy to help bust you out."

"Fine, fine." Edward groused. As Selina pulled away, he stole a quick look back at the brownstone, a fact that didn't go unnoticed by Selina. "I know it's not my business Eddie, but just who exactly is she to you?"

"You're right: it's not your business." A small smile came to Edward's face. "I think she's my friend."

Selina dropped him off back at his apartment twenty minutes later. As soon as Edward dropped his laptop on his kitchen table, he was ready to collapse. A few hours sleep, then he'd go back to GCPD and browbeat Gordon to get his cell phone back. Then he could finally get that Vale or Gleason interview scheduled. Edward stopped dead in his tracks when he felt the chill of the early morning air. He knew for a fact that he didn't leave any windows open before he left yesterday. A black shape walking towards him confirmed his suspicions. "It's been a while. How was League business?"

Batman stopped right in front of him and glared down at him. "Edward. We need to talk."

CASE FILE 0026: CASE CLOSED


	23. Aftermath

Perhaps it was lingering memories of the past times he'd interacted with the man, tucked away somewhere deep into his subconscious, but Edward was instantly on the defensive at Batman's query. "I take it you heard about our old friend Tut."

"I know the situation yes," Batman answered. "I'd like to hear the whole story from you first."

As Edward recounted what had occurred over the past two days, he kept an eye on Batman's expression. The vigilante remained impassive behind that cowl of his, not even reacting as Edward threw in a few (In Edward's opinion deserved) jabs at Gordon. Finally, Edward concluded his tale. "...So I successfully apprehended Goodman and rescued Dr. Young. Your presence wasn't required."

Batman's expression didn't change as he seemed to process everything that Edward told him. "I see." He said finally. "Do you really think that will be the end of it?"

Edward raised an eyebrow. "Goodman's terminal. He'll be dead before he can try anything again and Carson's no threat on her own. What more can they possibly do to me?"

"You need to look at the bigger picture Edward. Goodman and Carson themselves are out of the picture, but there are going to be serious consequences for what you did."

"What I did?" Edward repeated. "What I did? I'm not the one that killed three people and caused chaos in the city!"

"Five," Batman corrected. "Two GCPD officers died in the bombing. Another dozen were injured."

Edward frowned. "That wasn't my fault-"

"I'm not saying that it is," Batman interrupted. "You aren't responsible for what Goodman did, but Bullock isn't going to be the only person in this city who will blame you for it. You can't afford to be making any more enemies by taking the unnecessary risks that you did."

'Any more enemies'. Did Batman know about Strange's interest in him? Even if he did, would he care? "And just what was I supposed to do?" Edward shouted. "Stay hidden away in my office until Goodman came after me? He targeted me! He made it very clear that he wasn't going to stop until I was dead!"

"Tell me: after Goodman attacked you in Zeus' old club, why didn't you go to Gordon with what you knew?"

Edward narrowed his eyes. "Does that cowl block your hearing? I told you, Gordon didn't want me anywhere near this case. If I'd gone to him, he would have kept me away!"

"Maybe he would have," Batman conceded. "But he might have been more willing to work with you on flushing Goodman out if he knew what you did. There would have been no need for Dr. Young to be put in danger."

Edward felt his face flush. "I didn't and I would never willingly-"

"I don't think you intended for to Goodman to target her. But it still happened, because you let your ego get in the way of actually solving the case. That's why Gordon didn't think he'd be able to trust you."

Edward huffed. "I think this latest incident proved that no matter what I do, Gordon will never trust me. So why should I even bother?"

Batman took a step forward and for a moment, Edward tensed up, waiting for the vigilante to strike him. His body often remembered what his mind couldn't. The blow never came though. Instead Batman sighed. "There are a lot of people in Gotham who don't want you to succeed Edward. Gordon's not one of those people. Neither am I."

He sounded genuine, but Edward didn't believe him for a moment. If that was true, he would never have been in a coma in the first place. If that was true, Jonathan would still be-"If you're quite done lecturing me," he drawled, "I've had a long day and I'll have a busy morning. I'm not just a private investigator any more. I'm an actual hero now. Gotham's press corp won't get enough of me."

Batman's eyes narrowed and he stalked off towards the open window. Before he left, he gave one last look at Edward. "It won't just be your name that gets put in the papers Edward. Think about it." Before Edward could say anything in response, Batman was out the window. Edward slammed it shut behind him and stormed off to his bedroom. The absolute nerve of him! Couldn't he let him enjoy just a bit of the well earned success he'd achieved without breaking in to remind him of every mistake he'd ever made? As he flopped down onto his bed, Batman's last words nagged at him. 'Not just his name in the papers...' Well of course, Goodman would be there too, but why would the Dark Knight bring him up? But who else could he have meant-

Edward sat up with a start. Penelope. As Goodman's last victim, she'd be caught up in this too. It would be the second time this year that she'd be connected to him in a big news story. He'd already been fielding questions about her from too many people. Best case scenario, she'd be the target of all sorts of media gossip. Worst case...Edward clenched his fist. Worst case, she'd become a target for anyone of the long list of people who had a score to settle with him. Either way, their ability to work together would be compromised. And he'd promised her...Edward sighed and lay back down. He was too tired for this.

* * *

Edward managed to drag himself out of bed and to GCPD at noon. The waiting room was still cordoned off and the area around the bull pen was being swept up. Any other town, Edward would wonder why the building was still even operational. This was Gotham though. GCPD had seen worse the last three months alone. Frankly, the only thing that remotely surprised him was the fact that the tree in the front parking lot was still standing. Edward ignored the glares he received from the police officers as he strolled up the hall towards the Commissioner's office. The glares he was used to.

Gordon's office door was closed when Edward approached it. Not for the first time, he wondered if he'd done the smart thing by coming alone. Edward scoffed. He'd never been intimidated by GCPD before and he'd be damned if he would be now. He knocked on the door briskly. "Come in!" he heard on the other side. Edward swung the door open wide.

In Gordon's office was the man himself, sitting at his desk. He looked up and visibly sighed when he saw who was standing before him. "Come in Nigma," he said. "Shut the door behind you."

Edward did as he asked. "Good afternoon Commissioner!" he chirped, as if he were actually happy to see the man. "You look tired. Long night I take it?"

"Don't you even start," Gordon growled. "Take a seat."

Edward sat in the offered chair in front of Gordon's desk, noticing the bandage wrapped around his head for the first time. He thought about commenting, but decided not to. Gordon would regard anything he said as insincere. He'd be right too. "So," Gordon said, pulling open his desk drawer. "I take it you're here for your phone."

"Well done Commissioner," Edward responded. "Among other things."

Gordon's eyes narrowed as he pulled out Edward's cell phone. He handed it over to Edward's outstretched palm. For a long moment afterwards, the two men sat in silence. Finally, Gordon spoke. "Let's be completely honest," Gordon said in a gruff tone. "Neither of us handled this situation as well as we should have. That being said," he raised his right hand up, cutting off Edward's imminent protest. "Bullock had no right to detain you. I sincerely regret that happened. He's been appropriately disciplined."

Edward raised an eyebrow. This was more than he expected from Gordon, and the thought of Bullock getting even a taste of what he so richly deserved was satisfying. "Well, thank you Commissioner. I appreciate it." He lowered his voice slightly. "I'm sure you'll understand though if I'm a bit hesitant about collaborating with GCPD again anytime soon."

Gordon sighed and nodded. "I understand. I'm sorry to hear that too Nigma. I hope you'll reconsider at some point. Despite how this went, you have done some good work."

Edward suspected that Gordon knew as well as he did that any chance of a working partnership between him and GCPD, remote as it was before, was moving into the realm of impossibility. Still, it didn't hurt to be polite. "Commissioner," he said, tipping his hat. As he turned to leave, he heard Gordon say one last thing.

"By the way, thank you for saving Dr. Young. I really appreciate it."

I didn't do it for you, Edward wanted to bite out. Instead, he walked out the office without another word. As he made his way down the hallway and out into the bullpen, he caught Bullock on the other side of the room, glowering at him. Edward let out a sardonic smirk in his direction. Bullock's face purpled and he looked like he was about to walk over when Montoya caught his arm and whispered something in his ear. Whatever she said must have worked, for Bullock remained still, settling for glaring at Edward as he walked towards the exit. Moron.

Edward was almost out the door when he almost collided with another familiar face. "Edward? What are you doing here?"

Edward was just as surprised to see Penelope as she was to see him. "I could ask you the same question. Don't tell me Gordon has you working today!"

"No," she answered. "I'm here to give my statement about what happened last night."

Of course. Edward had given his to a uniformed officer before Bullock had begun laying into him. "Ah. I was here for a more mundane reason. I had to get my phone back. Cash took it from me last night when Bullock had me detained."

Penelope's gaze darkened a bit when Edward mentioned that. "I see. What are you going to do about that?"

Edward chuckled a bit. "I'm not going to sue the department, if that's what you're asking. But I don't think I'll be working with them anytime soon."

Penelope nodded. "I see. I can't say I'm too surprised by that, to be honest."

"Well," Edward said. "It's a good thing for us that technically, you don't work for GCPD. You're just a consultant. Not that there's anything wrong with that."

Penelope shook her head. "Edward," she said. "I'm still not going to undermine Gordon. Not even after what happened."

Edward's tone grew serious. "And I'll never ask you to. I mean it." Edward wet his lip. "Going forward, I think we should stick to meeting in your office. Wouldn't want to compromise you again. How much time will you be taking off?"

"Just the rest of the week. You can come by my office Monday morning, if you want."

It was already Thursday. Edward blinked. "Not to sound patronizing, but you were just in a life and death situation. Is four days enough time?"

Penelope shrugged. "It's...not the first time I've been in a life and death situation Edward. Not by a long shot. And I don't like to waste time when I could be doing something productive instead. Are you going to take any time off?"

Edward chuckled a bit again. "No, no I'm not. Speaking of which," he looked down at his phone. He had 10 missed calls from the various news reporters in Gotham, not to mention messages from Oswald, Dierdre and Nina. "I should get going. I'll see you on Monday Penelope." He looked up and the look on her face was surprised. "What?"

Penelope shook her head. "I'm sorry, it's just...you've never called me by my first name before."

Edward cocked his head. Had he crossed some boundary and not know it? She referred to him by his first name almost exclusively. "Is it a problem?"

"No!" Penelope said. "No. It's just..different. I'll get used to it."

Edward smiled a bit then. "Alright then. Good bye, Penelope." He walked away from the GCPD building, just as his phone began to ring. "Edward Nigma, Private Investigator."

 _"Well, look who decided to finally pick up!"_

Edward's eyes narrowed. "Hello Ryder," he said. "Run out of tabloid gossip to peddle for the day already?"

 _"I was wondering if I could get a comment on what exactly happened last night. How did Goodman escape GCPD custody after you caught him? Is it true he had a hostage? And how exactly did you catch him the second time?"_

Edward looked behind him. Penelope was long out of sight, probably in Gordon's office now. Edward sighed. She was the one good thing that resulted from his encounters with GCPD. She didn't deserve to be scrutinized by the likes of Ryder. "Well Ryder," he said with bravado. "My comment is this: No Comment. Goodbye Ryder." Edward hung up, contenting himself with the mental image of Ryder's smug face being outraged at being hung up on.

* * *

 _"'No comment.' That was all Edward Nigma had to say today regarding Victor Goodman's final rampage. Although Goodman and his accomplice Leigh Carson are in custody, there are still many unanswered questions surrounding their recent crime spree. How was it that GCPD had no idea what Goodman was planning? Where was his parole officer? Should Goodman have even been released in the first place? Finally, what impact will this event have on Mayor Quincy Sharp's upcoming first term in office? We'll be discussing these topics and more tonight, on the Jack Ryder Show."_

"No comment," Gordon said, shaking his head. "Edward Nigma not taking credit? Now I've seen everything. Whatever you said to him last night must have actually humbled him somewhat."

Bruce very much doubted that. "How was he when you saw him today?"

"He acted as smarmy as he usually does, but I could tell he was angry." Gordon sighed. "And for once, I can't say that I blame him. What in God's name was Bullock thinking detaining him? We're lucky Nigma didn't decide to make a fuss about it! We were actually making progress I thought with forming some kind of working relationship with him, but he'll never try to collaborate with us again." Gordon lit his pipe and began to smoke. "It's my fault," he said finally. "I should have either let Nigma work the case with us or done a better job at keeping him away."

"It's not your fault Jim," Bruce said. "Goodman was obsessed with getting revenge on Nigma. He was going to get involved no matter what you did." I should have been here, Bruce thought. Maybe he could have helped contain Edward.

"I know, I know." Gordon took another long drag on his pipe. "I've realized something during this case. All the talk we do about how we want the Rogues to be treated and reformed and what happens when one of them finally does? We have no idea what to do with him. God knows I'll never like Nigma, but sometimes I feel sorry for the bastard. He's not really part of either world in Gotham anymore."

No. No he really wasn't. Apart from Cobblepot and Selina, Edward was almost completely isolated in Gotham. That made him vulnerable, which was probably why Strange had targeted him back in May. His reformation was a tightrope. One false step or sharp shove and he'd be back into the abyss he'd narrowly escaped from. Bruce wouldn't let that happen. "What about Dr. Young?" he asked. "Would he still work with her?"

Gordon paused. "He might," he said carefully. "He did risk his life his life for her after all. He must have some regard for her. I don't like the idea of using her to keep tabs on him though. Poor woman's been through enough. And I don't think that's why you suggested I use her as a consultant either."

No, it wasn't. Edward had been just about the last thing on Bruce's mind when he'd suggested it. But it seemed that decision had led to unforeseen consequences for everyone involved. Bruce just wished he could be sure whether they were positive or negative. One thing he was certain of though. Edward Nigma, reformed he may be, required more supervision.

* * *

"This is absolutely disgraceful," Sharp fumed, watching the news coverage. "To be beholden to a vigilante is bad enough, but for GCPD to be shown up by Nigma! It's galling!"

"I agree," Hugo Strange answered. It was disgraceful, but it was also useful. Public confidence in the GCPD was already low enough. Nigma's latest stunt wasn't helping matters. One more incident like this and the public would be clamoring for an alternative. Strange smirked. The so-called Private Investigator was proving to be most useful indeed.

"When I take office, the first thing I'm going to do is demand Gordon's resignation," Sharp said vindictively. "Then I can appoint someone competent!"

"I wouldn't advise that," Strange answered. "Gordon is popular even if GCPD as an institution is not. It wouldn't look good to start off your administration by firing him. It would serve us better to create a situation where he resigns on his own accord."

Sharp's shoulders slumped. "Very well...I'm going to form a commission to examine parole practices then. And demand greater supervision of paroled inmates. If Goodman had been a patient while I was warden, he never would have gotten out! And if that insufferable Edward Nigma thinks he'll be able to do as he pleases in my City, he's in for quite a shock!"

Strange ignored the fool as he continued blustering. He already had policy changes in mind when he finally officially took control of the Asylum.


	24. Inauguration

_December 31st, 2006._

 _11:45 pm_

"I hate this coat," Ellen grumbled, walking or rather, waddling next to Edward as they walked into Gotham Central Park.

"Well too bad," Edward said unsympathetically. He felt cold in his dark green winter coat and he rubbed his gloved hands together. He hated winter in Gotham City. "You're the one who wanted to come out to see the fireworks. You could have stayed in your nice warm apartment and watched them on TV-"

"Blah blah blah," Ellen said. Edward had to admit, she did look a bit ridiculous in the green puffy winter coat he'd purchased for her for Christmas. Better she be warm at least. "You've been grouchy all day Old Man. What's eating you?"

Edward didn't answer his daughter as they continued walking through the park. They stopped just where Edward saw a mob of people gathered near the center. Just through the crowd, Edward could catch a glimpse of the Arkham Memorial. Had that really been six months ago? It seemed like a lifetime now. What a strange year he'd had. He'd begun to come into his own as a private investigator, but he'd attracted the unwelcome attention of Hugo Strange and Quincy Sharp in doing so and in a matter of hours, Sharp would be officially Gotham's Mayor. He still couldn't remember much of his life before the coma. He'd been betrayed by people he'd considered friends once upon a time. Jonathan was still gone.

It hadn't been all bad though, he thought as the lights in the park began to dim in anticipation of the fireworks. He and Selina had managed to reconcile. He'd met Penelope. And he'd gained a daughter. He looked down at said daughter, who was looking up at him expectantly. "What's with you Old Man?"

Edward shrugged. "Just thinking about the year that's gone by," he answered. "Did you imagine standing here with me back in January?"

Ellen shook her head. "Nah. I knew I'd find you though. That was my New Year's Resolution last year."

"Was it now," Edward grinned. "What's your resolution this year?"

"Pass my stupid history class. What's yours Old Man?"

Edward leaned back and thought. Find the truth. About Strange, about Jonathan. "I think the fireworks are about to start."

Ellen eagerly looked up and joined in the crowd's countdown.

 _ **5!**_

 _ **4!**_

 _ **3!**_

 _ **2!**_

 _ **1!**_

 _ **Happy New Year!**_

Edward watched the fireworks and the other revelers and his mood grew dark again. This was the year everything would change. He just knew it.

* * *

 _January 1st, 2007_

 _9:30 am_

 **THIS IS VICKI VALE, REPORTING LIVE FROM GOTHAM CITY HALL, WHERE JUST FIVE MINUTES AGO, QUINCY SHARP WAS SWORN IN AS THE NEXT MAYOR OF GOTHAM CITY. QUINCY SHARP REPLACES HAMILTON HILL, WHOSE 12 YEARS IN OFFICE WERE BROUGHT TO A SUDDEN END BY HIS OWN UNCOVERED CRIMINAL BEHAVIOR. MAYOR SHARP, FORMERLY THE WARDEN OF ARKHAM ASYLUM, RAN HIS CAMPAIGN ON A HARD ANTI CRIME PLATFORM. SHARP IS NOW ADDRESSING THE CROWD. LET'S CUT AWAY TO HEAR HIS REMARKS:**

 **"I WANT TO THANK ALL OF MY SUPPORTERS WHO HAVE BEEN THERE EVERY STEP OF THE WAY. THIS IS A NEW DAY FOR GOTHAM! THIS IS THE DAY WE TAKE OUR CITY BACK!"**

 **NOW THAT HE'S IN OFFICE, SHARP HAS SO FAR GIVEN EVERY INDICATION THAT HE WILL FOLLOW THROUGH ON HIS CAMPAIGN PROMISES. THIS IS VICKI VALE.**

Gordon never liked attending inaugurations. He never cared for the public spectacle, for the reporters, for any of it. As the Police Commissioner though, his presence wasn't optional. As he walked down the marbled hallway to the Mayor's office, he suppressed a sigh. He and Sharp had never gotten along when Sharp was warden at the Asylum. Now that he was the mayor. Gordon suspected it wouldn't be long until Sharp made his distaste for him known. Gordon stopped in front of the solid oak door of the mayor's office and knocked. An aide answered the door almost immediately.

"Commissioner Gordon. Please, come in."

Gordon walked into the open door and saw the man of the hour himself, hanging up the landline on his desk. "Commissioner." Sharp nodded his head at his aide. "Give us the room." The aide did as Sharp requested, shutting the door behind him. Gordon took a seat in front of Sharp's desk. There was an awkward silence before Sharp spoke. "I know we've had our differences when I was still warden of the asylum," he said, "But I would like to continue to work with you. I think it's vitally important for the security of Gotham that the mayor and police commissioner remain on good terms with each other."

They were the words Gordon wanted to hear, but Sharp's speech sounded stilted, as if he was reading off of a script. "Well, I'm glad to hear that," he said at last. "What did you have in mind for your agenda?"

Sharp fixed his beady gaze onto Gordon. "I want to be perfectly frank with you. I'm going to be establishing a commission to review parole practices in this city. And the recent conduct of GCPD."

Gordon tensed. "I understand that emotions are running high after the Goodman incident, but crime's at a ten year low in Gotham."

"That may be so," Sharp interrupted. "But less than a week ago, Victor Goodman killed several people, blew up a portion of GCPD and took a hostage! And neither his parole officer nor the GCPD had any inkling of this!"

"GCPD is conducting it's own investigation-"

"Oh is that so?" Sharp asked. "And with whose assistance? Batman's, or Edward Nigma's?"

And there it was. Gordon suspected that if Batman had been the one who brought in Goodman, Mayor Sharp wouldn't be making as much of a fuss. "Edward Nigma is not now nor was he ever privy to GCPD's case against Victor Goodman. GCPD is conducting its investigation without any outside interference."

Sharp nodded. "I don't mean to be so critical of you personally," he said without any meaning, "I know that you've made a lot of progress in cleaning up the GCPD since you became commissioner. But serious changes need to be made. As long as there are costumed manics causing chaos in this city, the public isn't going to care much that street crime's gone down!"

"And what kind of changes are you proposing?"

Sharp stared wide eyed at Gordon, as if he hadn't expected the question. Gordon was becoming more and more irritated. The man blamed GCPD for Goodman's rampage but didn't have any constructive ideas to offer?

"Well, that will be something the commission will decide, after reviewing everything," Sharp sputtered. "In the meantime, I suggest keeping a closer eye on Nigma."

Gordon raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You want me to devote time and resources to keep tabs on a private citizen?"

"When that private citizen is a former super criminal, then yes! He's caused nothing but trouble from the moment he woke up out of that coma!"

And yet, you hired him, Gordon wanted to say. "Mayor Sharp," he said in a measured tone of voice. "I have my share of concerns about Nigma. But the simple fact of the matter is that until or unless he does something that breaks the law, I can't do much about it."

Sharp's face darkened. "That may be so, but surely, you can keep him out of official police business! It's bad enough we're beholden to a man dressed as a bat, but to someone like Nigma...no. I won't have it!"

Gordon got out of his seat. "Are we finished here?" he asked with a slight edge to his voice. "Because I have work to do."

Sharp nodded. "Yes. I have another appointment I need to see to as well. I'll be in touch."

"I can hardly wait," Gordon muttered under his breath as he exited Sharp's office. This was going to be even worse than he thought.

* * *

 _January 1st, 2007_

 _10:30 am_

"For the last time Joan," Penelope said, holding her phone in one hand and grabbing her purse with the other. "I'm fine. If I spend one more day in my apartment, I'll need to schedule an appointment for myself."

"As long as you're sure," Joan said. "There's no need to push yourself if you need more time."

"I don't think I'll be going into GCPD today," Penelope said. "I'm just planning on heading into my office for a few hours to get caught up on paperwork. I'm not even sure when I'll be seeing a patient this week."

"Knowing you, I'm a bit surprised you weren't doing paperwork while you've been home," Joan teased.

"I wouldn't have had the time," Penelope scoffed. "I spent practically all day Thursday AND Friday convincing my mother she didn't need to fly back from Greece to check on me."

"Can't say that I blame her much." Joan was silent for a moment before she continued. "I didn't want to push it while you were at home recuperating, but there is something we still need to talk about."

Penelope paused as she was about to slip on her shoes. "Edward," she answered. She'd been thinking about it too. She'd been ready to tell Joan without hesitation what they were up to, but after he'd risked his life to save hers...she didn't want to do it without consulting him at least. "It might be better if you hear it from Edward himself."

"Would he be willing to tell me?"

"He's coming by my office today, I'll ask him-" a beeping noise from her phone distracted Penelope. "Hold on Joan, I've got another call." Penelope checked the number before placing Joan on hold. It wasn't one she recognized, but it had a Gotham area code. "Hello?"

"Is this Dr. Penelope Young?"

Penelope furrowed her brow. "Yes. Who is this?"

"My name is Howard Kline, with Mayor Sharp's office. Mayor Sharp would like to see you in his office at your earliest convenience."

Penelope nearly dropped her phone in shock. Sharp hadn't said as many as two words to her since the Arkham Memorial back in May. Why was he reaching out now? What did he want? Did he know that she and Edward were-

"Dr. Young? Are you still there?"

Penelope quickly recovered. "Yes. When's the earliest the Mayor can see me?"

"Mayor Sharp has a block of time between now and 12:30."

Penelope checked her watch. It would take her about twenty minutes to get from her apartment to City Hall. "I'll by there by 11."

"Thank you."

Penelope hung up and put Joan back on the line. "Mayor Sharp just had an aide call me and ask me down to his office."

"He did?" Joan asked, sounding as perplexed as Penelope was. "Why?"

"I'm not sure. I'm heading down there now. I'll call you later tonight." Penelope hung up before Joan could reply and slipped on her shoes. She doubted Sharp meant any harm, but this meeting made her feel uneasy all the same. On her way down the stairs, she dialed another number.

"This is Edward Nigma, Private Investigator. I'm either with a client or otherwise preoccupied. Leave your name and message and I'll get back to you as soon as possible."

"Edward," Penelope said. "It's Penelope. Mayor Sharp invited me to his office. I should be done by noon. Meet me back at my office at one."

* * *

"Penelope!" Sharp said almost jovially when his aide brought her into his office. "So glad you could make it! Please, sit down."

Penelope did so, not taking her eyes off of Sharp for a moment. He seemed genuinely glad to see her, which made her cringe. At the Asylum, he'd taken an almost paternalistic interest in her and had involved himself more in her business than what she considered tolerable. It seemed that time and separation did nothing to change that. So she did what she'd done at Arkham: grin and bear it until she could leave. "Mayor Sharp. Congratulations."

"Oh no, none of that my dear. Please, call me Quincy." She would absolutely not. "Would you like a drink?"

"No, thank you," Penelope politely declined. "Honestly, I'm a bit surprised that you asked to see me."

"Ah, well. I do apologize for not keeping in touch after what happened in May, but we've both been busy. How have you been? Are you happy at GCPD?"

"Well." she answered. "I do enjoy my work with GCPD, yes."

"Even after what happened? Gordon told me what Goodman did to you when he informed me of the dreadful incident."

That would explain why Sharp was reaching out to her now. "I'm alright. I'm sure that you have more important matters to attend to without checking up on me."

Sharp chuckled. "My dear girl-" Penelope bristled at the endearment. I'm not a girl and I'm not your dear. "I'm never to busy to look after one of the best doctors I ever worked with." Who is the best? Hugo Strange? "I actually called you here because I'd like to offer you an opportunity to work with me again."

That Penelope hadn't expected. "In your office?" she inquired. "Why would you need me?"

"No, back at Arkham. The Asylum sorely needs people with your work ethic and your vision."

Penelope felt her blood run cold. Her vision. Her vision that had led to her violating every oath she'd taken when she'd become a doctor. Her vision that led to the deaths of over a hundred people. "No," she murmured. "I can't go back there."

Sharp reached out to grab her hand and it took everything Penelope had to not flinch. "Penelope," he said in a serious tone. "What happened at Arkham was not your fault. I believe you could make a real difference there. And at any rate, you deserve better than to be slumming at GCPD, and being put in danger because of Edward Nigma."

Penelope looked up with a start at the vehemence in Sharp's tone. "With all due respect," she said carefully. "I don't consider the consulting work I do with GCPD 'slumming'. And Nigma did save me."

Sharp huffed. "After his stunt with Goodman led to you being kidnapped in the first place! The man's incorrigible! Just how much nonsense has happened because Gordon refuses to keep a leash on him?" Penelope bit her tongue. If she were overly defensive of Edward, Sharp might get suspicious. "At any rate," Sharp continued, "I don't want to spend much time thinking about him. I have my ways of taking care of that problem. I'd like you to consider coming back to Arkham as my head of research."

Penelope arched an eyebrow. "I thought that my old position had been filled already."

"It was," Sharp admitted. "But now with Dr. Strange taking over as the Warden, we will need that position filled. I promise you, we've completely revamped all security. The Rogues will never be able to..."

Penelope didn't hear anything Sharp said after he said Strange was taking over as the warden of Arkham Asylum. Penelope remembered just how eager he'd been ti get Edward back into his custody last summer. She'd heard the rumors from Aaron and from Joe Bryant about just how draconian he could be. That kind of man with that kind of power...what would he do with it?

* * *

 _January 1st, 2007_

 _12:15 pm_

Edward looked at his watch and swore. He should have left by now. He wanted to get to Penelope's office as soon as possible. He cursed himself again for not picking up when she'd called earlier. What did Sharp want with her? What was he telling her? A knock on the door of his office broke him out of his musings. He groaned. Not a client. Not now. "I'm busy right now! Come back in a few hours!"

The door opened and Edward's eyes almost popped out when he saw who was entering his office. A large, burly man with a black buzz cut and a cold smile on his face. "Nigma," he sneered. 'Long time no see."

Edward clenched his fist. "Not nearly long enough, Bolton."

Lyle Bolton snorted. "Is that any way to talk to your old pal Eddie?" Bolton walked over to where Edward had a framed article of a past case hung up on the wall. "'Edward Nigma solves case of break in at Gotham Park Towers.' You like getting your face in the papers Eddie?"

"It's a living," Edward grit out. "What do you want Bolton?"

Bolton smirked at the obvious discomfort he was causing. "Just here as a courtesy visit. Not sure if you know, but I'm the new head of security at Arkham."

Edward's eyes narrowed. "I see. What does that have to do with me?"

"Mayor Sharp asked me to come by and talk to you." Bolton's face darkened. "He's sick and tired of you trying to play good guy. So am I. Stay out of the news and stay out of police business."

The next words were out of Edward's mouth before he had the chance to think them through. "Or else what?"

Bolton grabbed the framed article and threw it as hard as he could on the ground, sending glass shards flying. Edward stood still, stunned for a moment. Bolton smirked again. "Or else that, but your head. I'll make that coma you had look like a nap." Bolton walked out of Edward's office. Edward dashed to the window to watch Bolton get into his car and drive off. As soon as he was certain Bolton was gone, Edward grabbed his coat. He had to talk to Penelope, now.

* * *

 _January 1st, 2007_

 _1:00 pm_

After being on edge all throughout her meeting with Sharp, Penelope was relieved to see Edward sitting on her desk in her office. Relieved enough to not scold him for not using a chair at least. "Afternoon Penelope," he greeted. His tone was more serious than usual. "How did your meeting with our illustrious new mayor go?"

"He's as pompous and demeaning as he ever was," she answered, hanging her coat on the rack. "That's not important though. He told me that Hugo Strange is warden at the asylum now!"

Edward didn't look surprised. "That's unfortunate, but not entirely unexpected. But I doubt he asked you to come to his office just to tell you that."

"No," she admitted. "He wanted me to come to work at Arkham again. He asked if I would consider becoming head of research again."

"Under the watchful eye of Warden Strange, no doubt." Penelope noticed for the first time just how tense his body language was. That couldn't be because of her visit with Sharp. "Sharp sent Bolton to my office," Edward said, almost sensing her question. "He's made Bolton head of security."

Penelope's jaw dropped. The last time she'd seen Lyle Bolton, he'd been put on leave for throwing an unruly inmate through a window. He'd still been on leave when the Joker had taken over the Asylum. "Bolton's a walking lawsuit waiting to happen. What's Sharp thinking putting him in charge of security? And why did he send him to your office?"

Edward hopped off the desk. "Evidently, Sharp is a firm believer in punishment over rehabilitation. And he sent Bolton to give me a message: Sharp doesn't like my recent activities on the right side of the law."

Penelope sank down into a chair. "Sharp sent Bolton to threaten you? Did he hurt you?"

"Me? No. A picture frame of mine wasn't as lucky." Edward looked at her with a look like almost looked like concern. "Are you alright? You look pale."

Penelope took a deep breath. "I'm fine Edward." She brought her hand up to her forehead. "It's just been a bit of an overwhelming day."

"Tell me about it," the man chuckled. "And it's only just past one."

Penelope took a moment to fully process what Edward told her. Warden Hugo Strange and now head of security Lyle Bolton...this didn't look good. And it was becoming a bit much for just the two of them. "Edward," she said finally. "I think we need to bring in more people."

Edward looked surprised, but didn't immediately object. "Penelope," he said gently. "I've faced worse odds than this."

"I know, but we're just two people Edward. This is potentially going to impact the entire city. I just..I'd rather be safe than sorry."

Edward nodded. 'I see your point. Who did you have in mind? It's a bit early to bring in Gordon."

"I want to tell Joan about this."

"Dr. Leland? Why?"

"She's already asking questions Edward. I can't put her off forever. And she's never cared for Sharp's methods. She might be able to give us insight that neither of us have."

Edward rubbed his chin in thought. "Well, at the very least, she won't go against us. I'll talk to her."

Penelope smiled a bit in relief. "Thank you Edward."

Edward smiled a bit in response before his face grew serious again. "What did you tell Sharp about taking the job?"

Penelope shrugged. "I thanked him, but said that I was happy at GCPD." Sharp hadn't been happy, but he hadn't been angry either.

"That's it?"

"It wouldn't do us any good to make him angry Edward. If he thinks I'm still friendly towards him, it'll be easier to get information from him."

Edward looked vaguely impressed with her. "I see. You do realize that that's a bit of a dangerous game you're playing?"

"Is it any more dangerous than what you'll be doing?"

Edward shook his head. "No. I suppose not."

* * *

 _January 1st, 2007_

 _3:00 pm_

As Edward finished telling his story, he studied Dr. Leland's face. She remained deep in thought, not saying a word. She didn't seem to be in outright disbelief at least. Finally, she spoke. "Do you have any tangible proof that Strange is targeting you, or is this just a suspicion?"

"I don't exactly have him on tape admitting to it, but I think I've got more than enough circumstantial evidence to make the case. At the very least, Mayor Sharp has a clear vendetta against me. I can show you the frame to prove it."

"I don't know that it's a vendetta against you specifically, but something seems to be going on, I grant you. Does Gordon know?"

"No," Edward answered. "I don't want to get him involved until I have concrete proof."

"Does Batman know?"

Edward averted his gaze from Dr. Leland's for a bit. "I don't know. I don't want to get him involved at all."

"Edward, I understand that your past with him doesn't make it easy for you to trust him, but if this is as serious as you and Penelope think it is, he needs to know."

Edward clenched his fist. "Will you tell him? Or would that break doctor patient privilege?"

Dr. Leland sighed. "Don't be snide Edward. But no, I won't tell him unless I absolutely have to."

Edward sighed in relief. "Thank you Dr."

"I have one question though: how and why did you bring Penelope into this?"

Edward shrugged. "I didn't bring her into it. She witnessed Strange accost me and decided to bring herself into it. I told you that. She's made it very clear to me that she'll be looking into this no matter what I do or don't do."

Dr. Leland pinched the bridge of her nose. "I can't say I'm surprised. Penelope feels responsible for what happened during the Joker's riot a year and a half ago."

Edward's stomach clenched as he recalled how she'd offered herself up as a sacrifice to Horner last May. "I've noticed. I'd like to think she's come a long way since then."

"She has, but that guilt will never completely go away. It might lead her to take risks to prevent a situation like that from ever happening again." Dr. Leland fixed Edward with a hard look. "I know you aren't responsible for her actions, just like she's not responsible for yours, but please. Don't let her endanger herself."

Edward leaned back in his chair and sighed. In all of his past partnerships, professional and personal, he'd never been put into the position of protector. It was unsettling. "There won't be a repeat of the Goodman situation. I can promise you that much." Edward thought of Penelope, of Ellen, of Selina, of Oswald. It began to occur to him that more people than just him stood to lose if Strange succeeded in whatever his goal was.

* * *

 _January 1st, 2007_

 _4:00 pm_

It had been a good day for Dr. Hugo Strange. Sharp was now in place at City Hall, ready to implement whatever policy Strange and his master devised for Gotham City. And now that he was officially Warden, Strange could begin the process of fully remaking the asylum. He'd begun to institute stricter rules and more...vigorous regimens, but now, he had to power to fully enforce them and to remove anyone who objected. Speaking of which...Strange opened up his laptop and began typing up a list of names. These were people that, for one reason or another, demanded closer scrutiny. Aaron Cash. Joe Bryant. The former security guards who had the strongest objections to his new regulations. Dr. Joan Leland. Dr. Penelope Young. Leland had been a thorn in his side for years and it seemed that Young was following in her footsteps. Sharp's continued attachment to Young was also a problem to consider. The fool had actually offered her a position back at the asylum, without Strange's approval. Luckily for her, she had chosen not to take it. Strange shook his head and moved on. Oswald Cobblepot. Selina Kyle. They may not be criminally insane, but they were as much a pestilence on Gotham as those who were currently locked up in Arkham. Edward Nigma. Strange narrowed his eyes. He may be useful now, but he was becoming unpredictable. If he genuinely succeeded in reforming...he wouldn't. Strange would see to that, one way or another. Commissioner James Gordon. The only major city official who couldn't be bought or disposed of. Bruce Wayne.

Strange smiled. If all went according to plan, Batman would be soon become obsolete. It would be Hugo Strange who would be remembered as the man who saved Gotham City. Strange typed a few more words into his laptop.

Countdown until Arkham City: 18 months.


	25. Foundation

_January 1st, 2007_

 _10:00 pm_

Commissioner Gordon leaned back in his desk chair with a sigh. It had not been a good day. When he'd arrived back to GCPD headquarters from his awkward meeting with Mayor Sharp, he'd called in his senior detectives to his office and informed them about the commission that Sharp intended to form. As expected, none of them took it well, especially Bullock. Gordon couldn't blame them. Every action they'd taken as police officers over the past ten years was about to be called into question. If Sharp's earlier remarks were anything to go on, they'd especially be grilled on the actions they department had taken since Nigma had reformed. Gordon removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. He hadn't been thrilled when Nigma had decided to, in his own words, 'use his intellect for good and assist the GCPD,' but he'd never imagined things would get quite this complicated.

"Long day Jim?"

Gordon put his glasses back on and sat up straight. "You could say that," he grumbled. "I had my first official meeting with Mayor Sharp today."

"And?"

"He's not happy about what happened with Goodman. He's forming a commission to investigate parole practices and the GCPD's conduct." Gordon reached into his pocket for his book of matches, only to come up empty handed. "He also asked me to keep a tighter leash on Nigma."

"No doubt he's not happy about Nigma being the one to catch Goodman."

"Neither am I, but I got the feeling there's more to it than just the Goodman case. Sharp seems to have it out for Nigma. Which is a bit surprising, considering Nigma all but got him elected in the first place. Got any ideas why?"

There was a pause before the masked man in Gordon's office spoke again. "Remember when Sharp hired Nigma last May? I think there was more going on there than just finding who was leaving threatening notes. I think Sharp wanted to test Nigma's capabilities and then try to bring him under his control."

Gordon rubbed his chin. "That makes sense. Nigma being Nigma, of course he wouldn't play ball, so now Sharp wants him out of the way." Gordon sighed. A vendetta between the newly elected mayor and a former super villain. This was the last thing he needed to deal with. "You think Nigma knows he's persona non grata?"

"I'm certain he knows. And I'm certain he has some kind of contingency plan in the works. We're going to need to keep an eye on him."

"That'll be easier said then done. Because of Bullock's jackass stunt during the Goodman case, Nigma's not going to tolerate us sticking our noses in his business." Gordon tapped his fingers on his desk, really wanting a smoke about now. "A man like Nigma, thinking the mayor's office, the police department, and you are all up against him? That's not a good scenario for any of us. He might start to pick up old habits."

The only response Gordon received was the sound of the wind rustling the window blinds. Gordon shook his head. "One of these days, we're going to finish a conversation before you do that."

 _January 2nd, 2007_

 _12:30 pm_

"So you did speak to Edward then?"

"I did," Joan answered, taking a sip of water. Penelope sat across from her, watching her every move. "He told me what's been going on." Joan watched as her friend sighed in relief.

"I'm glad," she said. "I wanted to tell you last week, but-"

Joan held her hand out. "It's alright Penelope. I should tell you right now though, that I can give you information, but that's as far involved as I'm willing to be."

"That's fine Joan, anything you can tell us-"

"Penelope," Joan gently interrupted. "I mean, give you information. I told Edward yesterday that I don't want to hear about any of this from him. I'm still officially his psychiatrist. I don't want anything to compromise our sessions, as infrequent as they are."

Penelope nodded in understanding. "Of course."

Joan took another sip of water. "I don't suppose I need to tell you to be extremely careful. If Strange and Sharp are willing to be this brazen with regards to Edward,there's a chance they might target you as well for helping him."

"I can more than handle Sharp," Penelope said confidently. "And I'm not afraid of Hugo Strange. If they're using their positions to compromise this city, they need to be confronted."

A wan smile came to Joan's face. She was beginning to see glimmers of who Penelope was before the Asylum had gotten its hooks into her. Her face grew serious again though as she spoke, "It's not just them you need to be careful of Penelope. You need to take care of yourself. I don't want to hear about you taking any more unnecessary risks."

"I'll be fine Joan," Penelope answered.

Joan nodded. "Also," she said in a low tone. "You need to keep an eye on Edward."

Penelope looked confused at her. "Why?" she asked. "You don't think he's trying to game us, do you?"

"No," Joan said. "If Edward says there's something going on, I believe him. But this is going be an extremely stressful situation. I worry about what this could do to his mental state."

Joan watched as Penelope's expression went from confusion, to a look of blank coldness. Joan knew that look well. It was the expression Penelope used when something was concerning her, but she didn't want to let on that it was. "Do you think he's in danger of relapsing?"

"Not yet," Joan answered. "Edward's made a lot of progress over the past year, but he's not cured. He still has compulsive behavior and anxiety. And I think the Goodman case clearly shows that he's still letting his ego get in his way." Joan took a breath. "There's something else that bothers me. I believe that there's something from Edward's past that he hasn't dealt with."

Penelope arched an eyebrow. "Something relating to his past as the Riddler?"

"No. Something personal. About two months after he woke up, he received a visit from a friend of his. I'm not sure what they spoke about, but he was hysterical. He was screaming, crying, throwing things. He had to be sedated. After he woke up, he refused to speak about it. I've never been able to get him to open up about it since."

Penelope's expression turned from blank, to thoughtful. It was as if what Joan said had triggered a memory. Joan found herself leaning forward. Had Edward spoken to Penelope about it? How close were they? Joan wondered briefly if she knew about Edward's daughter. The man had sworn her to secrecy about the girl, so if Penelope didn't know, she wouldn't be the one to tell her. Finally, Penelope's face turned blank again and she looked at Joan. "If Edward doesn't want to talk about it, I can't force him." She shook her head. "Trying to get him to do anything he doesn't want to do is like trying to herd cats."

Joan laughed a bit. "Tell me about it. He is probably the most stubborn person I've worked with in my fifteen years as a doctor." Joan's smile fell a bit. "Even now, Edward won't prioritize his mental health unless he has no other option."

Penelope chewed her bottom lip a bit. "Joan, I can't force him to seek treatment, or be responsible for him."

"And I'm not saying you should. Believe me. But we both know what signs to look for. If you see any evidence he's slipping, call me immediately. If Sharp and Strange really are out to get him, then they'll take full advantage of any vulnerability."

There was a pause, before Penelope nodded. "I will Joan."

The waiter arrived then, bringing each of them a plate of salad. Joan watched for a few minutes as Penelope pecked at hers, deep in thought. "Getting back to the case," she said, "What are your next steps?"

"Edward said he was going to meet with a few associates of his and let them know what's going on." Penelope finally took a small bite. "I assume he meant Oswald Cobblepot and Selina Kyle. I was going to start researching Hugo Strange's background." She looked up at Joan expectantly. "You worked with him at Arkham for a few years didn't you? Before I started?"

"Yes," Joan answered. "For about two years, when Jeremiah Arkham was still in charge." Joan's lip pursed at the memory of Hugo Strange. He'd a been a cold, calculating man with outdated ideas on therapy. It didn't surprise her for an instant that he'd be targeting Edward, even when the man was reformed. "He was the senior psychiatrist then. He actually did have some success in treating some of the more hardcore patients." Joan took a bit of her salad. "Strange was fascinated by the criminal behavior exhibited by our more infamous patients. He was more interested in studying them than he was in actually treating them. He brought several research proposals before Dr. Arkham and the rest of the Board at Arkham, but he was turned down every time. Back then, the Board of Arkham actually wanted to attempt to make rehabilitation the primary goal."

"Was that why Strange left?"

Joan shook her head. "No. When Strange did treat his patients," Joan's teeth grinded at the memory. "His methods wouldn't be out of place in Victorian Bedlam. He used aggressive punishments. Withholding food, solitary confinement, electroshock therapy."

"And Dr. Arkham allowed this?"

"Absolutely not. When he found out just how far Strange was going, he fired Strange. He left for Europe after that. No one at the Asylum saw or heard from him for years after that. I thought that would be the end of it, but then Dr. Arkham died and Sharp came in. You know the rest."

"And then last year, just after the riot, Strange returns and takes my old position at the Asylum." Penelope took a sip of water. "I've been thinking. After you left, Sharp did begin using harsher punishments to deal with the more unruly inmates. Then Strange comes in almost immediately after I leave. Is it possible that Sharp and Strange were in communication with each other?"

Joan shrugged. "It's possible. That sounds like a question for Edward though." If Sharp and Strange had been communicating with each other, Joan thought, then whatever they were doing was a long time coming. It was a disturbing thought. Judging from how little Penelope was eating, she felt the same way.

 _Tuesday, January 2nd, 2007._

 _9:00 pm_

Dr. Leland had been shocked when Edward told her what he'd been up to, but ultimately accepting. She'd never raised her voice once. Selina on the other hand-"Are you serious Eddie!?" she yelled at him as soon as he was finished speaking. "Dr. Strange and Mayor Sharp have had a target on your back for the past six months and you're just NOW telling us about this!?"

Edward held his hands up in supplication. He was glad he was out of range of Selina's wine glass, should she decide to hurl the contents at him. He'd just gotten this suit dry cleaned after all. Not to mention Oswald would be less than happy if his immaculate table cloth was ruined. "Now now Selina, don't be like that. And in my defense, we weren't exactly on speaking terms six months ago."

Selina pointed her finger at Edward. "Then why didn't you say anything after what happened at Jervis' hideout last summer? Or even after what happened with Tut!?" Selina's green eyes narrowed. "We've known each other for fifteen years Edward. You should have told me. Do you still not trust me!?"

Edward sighed. He didn't quite expect Selina to be this agitated. She really did care about him. "I wouldn't be telling you this now if I didn't Lina."

Selina's face softened somewhat, but she let out an irritated huff. Oswald graciously held up his hand. "Now now Selina, let's not get bogged down by arguments about trust." He lit his cigarette and took a long puff. "If either this Dr. Strange or Mayor Sharp think they can intimidate Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot with such lack witted strong arm tactics, they've got another thing coming." He turned his sharp gaze at Edward. "What do you require from us Edward?"

Edward leaned back in his chair. "From you Oswald, our usual arrangement should be enough. You supply me with men and with space, I'll supply you with information."

"Consider it done."

Edward turned to Selina. "Keep your eyes and ears open. You know where to find me if you find out anything."

Selina rolled her eyes, but nodded. "Sure thing." She leaned forward in her chair and gave Edward a half-hearted glare. "No holding anything else back from me Eddie. I mean it."

"Fine Lina. I promise."

Selina relaxed, then gave Edward an inquisitive look. "Does Ellen know anything about this?"

"No, and she's not going to." She was only 15. There was no reason for Ellen to be caught up in any of this nonsense. He wasn't Batman, dragging children into fighting his wars. Selina didn't look happy with this, but didn't say anything in response. Edward finally picked up his own wine glass and took a sip. This was going to be a long case.

 _Friday, January 5th 2007_

 _9:00 am_

Edward arrived at Penelope's office bright and early, managing to avoid the front desk receptionist or any building security that might be around. Her office door was painfully easy to unlock, so he made his way in, propping his cane up against her desk before he hopped onto it, and began to wait for her. He idly drummed his fingers on the solid wooden desk when his eyes strayed over to the bookshelf she had set up on the left side of the room. He walked over to it, figuring he may as well find something to do to pass the time. He skimmed over multiple psychology textbooks, scientific journals and packed up case notes before he pulled out a copy of Dostoevsky's Demons and walked back to Penelope's desk, hopping back on and beginning to read. In undertaking to describe the recent and strange incidents in our town, till lately wrapped in uneventful obscurity, I find myself forced in absence of literary skill to begin my story rather far back, that is to say, with certain biographical details concerning that talented and highly-esteemed gentleman-

Edward barely manged to get through the first paragraph before he heard the door to the office open. He looked up to see Penelope carrying a paper cup of coffee in her hand. She hadn't noticed him yet. Time to change that. "Good morning, Dr. Young!" Edward chirped.

Penelope looked up with a start and gasped, reflexively throwing her cup straight at him. Edward barely managed to dodge the steaming hot liquid as it spattered across her desk. Edward looked at the mess and looked back at her, almost put out. "Well, that's a fine way to greet someone!"

Penelope's face flushed red after she recovered from the shock and realized just it it was that was in her office. "Jesus Christ Edward!" she shouted, slamming the door behind her. "What are you doing here!?"

Edward frowned. "I thought you wanted me to come by to update you."

"You should have called me!" Penelope continued, pulling off her dark blue winter coat and hanging it up on the coat rack. "You scared me half to death!"

It suddenly occurred to Edward that showing up unannounced in the office of a woman who had been recently kidnapped and threatened with death might not have been the best course of action. "You're right," he admitted. "That was a bit rude of me." Penelope looked surprised that he was willing to admit fault. Edward tried to ignore it. "I'll clean up the coffee. Do you have any paper towels, or-"

"In the bottom drawer of my desk, on the right hand side." Edward leaned down and pulled out the roll, then tore off a few sheets and began to wipe up the coffee. At least none had manged to get on her carpet. "Were you reading my books? Why?"

"I was bored," Edward answered truthfully. "And I've found one of the most interesting ways to get to know a person is to examine what's on their bookshelf."

"I'll take your word for it," Penelope said. Edward finished mopping up the mess and deposited the damp paper towels in the wastebasket before looking back up at Penelope. She was back to business as usual. ''How did your meeting go?"

"Well enough. Oswald and I have our usual understanding. Selina was a bit put out that I didn't tell her sooner, but she's on board as well."

"What about Selina's friends?"

Edward didn't miss the brief flicker of unease he saw on Penelope's face. "I assume you're referring to Harley and Ivy. They won't be involved. Ivy and I aren't exactly on the best of terms and Harley can't be trusted to keep quiet. What about your meeting with Dr. Leland?"

"It went well," she answered. "She told me a bit about how Strange was when they worked together." Penelope walked closer to where Edward was standing. "You don't happen to remember anything about him from when he was at Arkham, do you?"

Edward creased his brow as he tried, and failed, to recall. "No details no. I remember that I hated his guts, but I'm certain I feel that way about every doctor I had in Arkham." He sheepishly adjusted his hat. "Dr. Leland and present company excepted, of course."

If Penelope had been offended, she gave no indication of it. "I didn't think so."

Well, this was a bit awkward. "So," he said. "Have you been by GCPD yet?"

"Gordon hasn't called me in yet. I think he wants to give me more time. Aaron called me yesterday though. He said that Gordon warned the senior detectives and officers that Sharp's going to announce a commission to look into what caused the Goodman incident."

Edward snorted. "No doubt he's trying to set up Gordon and GCPD as a scapegoat for that."

"Or you," Penelope added. "Edward, I think for the time being, you should keep a low profile."

Edward raised an eyebrow. "That's going to be a bit difficult, don't you think? I am me, after all."

"You know what I mean. Don't take any high profile or highly unusual cases. Don't be seen to be interfering in GCPD business. Sharp can't accuse you of being a public menace if you're under the radar."

Edward hated to admit it, but she did have a point. It would probably be a good idea to stay out of Bullocks way for the time being as well. "Well, I do have a backlog of wandering wives jobs from just after Christmas, before I got sidetracked by Goodman." He frowned. "What a waste of my precious intellect though."

"Your 'precious intellect' will survive you taking it easy for a few weeks Edward." Penelope said, not unkindly. "I think it would be a good idea though to check in regularly. Just in case if one of us hears anything."

Edward grinned a bit. "If you want the privilege of my company Penelope, all you have to do is ask." He laughed a bit when he saw Penelope roll her eyes. He caught the slight smile she had all the same. "I agree though. How about this: barring anything job related or some catastrophe, I'll meet you here, this day and time."

Penelope considered this for a moment. "I think that will work. Just don't surprise me like that again."

"I won't. And on days when I don't have an update, I can regale you with tales from my cases."

Penelope shook her head. "I can hardly wait," she drawled.


	26. Case File 0041: Regarding Jonathan Crane

_Case File 0041:_

 _February 2nd, 2007_

 _NOTE: FOR PERSONAL USE ONLY_

 _I needed to know the truth. I deserved to know the truth. I thought I was ready. I thought I was prepared for anything. I'm not. I wasn't._

 _"_ _In today's headlines, the Sharp Commission has officially convened to examine the parole practices of Arkham Asylum. The commission, headed up by senior members of Mayor Sharp's administration, will be determining just what role the parole system in Gotham City played in Victor Goodman's rampage back in late December of last year. The commission is expected to call as its first witness…"_

Edward idly listened to the news broadcast as he stood in front of his closet, deciding on the final touches for his wardrobe that day. Sharp Commission on Parole Practices indeed. Goodman's parole officer had been fired back in January for his lax supervision of Goodman. Well, he supposed Sharp had to do something to remind Gotham just how anti-crime he was and the elite of Gotham remembered that they should be embarrassed by how reliant they were on Batman and needed to actually do something. And here they were. Edward finally made up his mind and pulled out his purple silk waistcoat. It was no longer snowing, but it was still expected to be cold out, so extra layers would be appreciated. Once he pulled on his matching purple tie, Edward looked down at his watch. 8:15. He grinned. He'd have time to grab coffee before he went to Penelope's office, as per their Friday routine. No doubt she'd want his opinion on the Sharp Commission. It was certain to be an interesting conversation.

Last but not least, Edward pulled out his regular cane and put on a green bowler hat. He walked down the hall and to his coffee table to pick up the TV remote when Summer Gleeson's tone shifted. "This is a breaking news alert! Waylon Jones, also known as Killer Croc, is reported to have escaped custody of Arkham Asylum!"

Edward didn't hear his cane land on the floor. His attention was fixed on the television screen as Gleeson continued, "Jones is believed to have escaped through the sewer system of Arkham, still damaged by the effects of the Joker's takeover nearly two years ago. Jones is violent and should be considered extremely dangerous. If spotted, alert GCPD immediately…."

Waylon Jones…Edward remembered him. It was admittingly hard to forget a man who was almost completely reptilian at this point, but it wasn't memories of Croc himself that were running through Edward's head at the moment. There was one memory he had that was still clear as day to him, that had been almost from the moment he'd woken up from his coma…

 _"_ _Keep moving Nigma!"_

 _Edward tries not to flinch as the burly man behind him pushes him forward. His hands are shackled in front of him and he can't quite see out of his left eye, swollen shut by his encounter with Batman almost two hours ago. He's just gotten though processing in Arkham and is now being led to his cell, courtesy of Lyle Bolton. Edward scoffs a bit. He'll be out of here by morning light. Finally, Bolton stops him just before his cell door and types a few buttons on the control panel. Edward's memorized it already. Today though, Edward catches a glimpse of a human shape in the cell._

 _He turns sharply at Bolton. "I think you've made a mistake," he says. "Someone's already in this cell!"_

 _Bolton smirks and Edward feels his stomach drop. "Budget cuts Eddie," Bolton says smugly. "You've got a roommate." The cell door unlocks and Bolton quickly unlocks Edward's shackles before pushing him in, shutting the cell door as soon as Edward hits the floor. "Have fun with him Spooky!" Edward hears Bolton's loud, braying laughter as the guard walks away from the cell._

 _Edward pushes himself up from the floor when Bolton's last words suddenly hit him. Spooky? Oh no…Edward slowly looks up at the cot where the figure he saw through the door was lying. It's a tall man, almost impossibly tall, his long spindly legs hanging awkwardly over the cheap cot bolted down to the floor. He sits up, slowly, his ice blue eyes looking at his new cellmate with a look that was both calculating and disinterested. "Edward Nigma?" the man says at last, his voice a low Georgian drawl._

 _Edward pulls himself up and, mustering up as much bravado as he can, extends his hand out to him. "Jonathan Crane, I presume?"_

An obnoxious commercial for a car dealership blared on the television, bringing Edward back to the present. He took a deep breath. It had been ten years since that evening he'd been assigned a cell with Jonathan. He'd tried with all of his power not to think about that evening, or what had followed, or about anything even remotely connected to Jonathan, preoccupying himself with his case work so he wouldn't have time to think about it. Hugo Strange and Quincy Sharp had been a Godsend in that regard. It had worked for awhile, but that was before Waylon Jones had emerged and thoughts of Jonathan, always there just below the surface, came to the front once again. Edward felt his breath coming in gasps, his heart clench, his hands slowly creep up to his hair as if they wanted to pull it out, he wanted to curl into a ball and never leave his apartment again-

"Pull it together Edward," he said sharply. He took a deep breath, then another. Slowly, he felt his heart rate return to normal. Once he was certain he was no longer about to breakdown, he checked his watch again. 8:45. So much for coffee. He sighed, turned off his television, picked up his cane where he had dropped it and set out for the day. These feelings would pass once he became focused on the case. They always did.

* * *

Penelope thankfully didn't comment on it when Edward arrived fifteen minutes late. She'd begun talking about the commission almost as soon as he'd stepped into her office. She was going on about it now, as Edward sat in her office chair and said nothing. "…Goodman's parole officer was already fired, so I think they're going to be taking a look a t the parole system in Arkham in broader terms. Joan said that she'll be called as a witness. She and I both think that Jeremiah Arkham's going to be criticized for being lax, it's an easy criticism to make since the man's been dead for almost five years. Jones' escape though doesn't exactly make a compelling case that Sharp's practices have been anymore successful than Arkham's were…"

Edward's nails dug into the armrests of the office chair at the mention of Croc. Penelope's voice gradually began to fade, as he felt himself drifting off into the past again….

 _…_ _.He's been awake for about a week now. He thinks. It's hard to mark the passage of time in this place. The doctors say he's recovering well. He takes their word for that. They call him Edward, and it feels right, but his mind still can't quite make the connection between the name and himself. The dreams are becoming a problem. There's one person in particular who keeps showing up. He's a tall man, almost skeletal, with a mop of mousy brown hair and ice blue eyes that penetrate him to the core. He's woken up in the middle of the night every night reaching out for this person, only to find himself alone. He can't quite place his name. He's not sure that he's even real._

 _Today, he feels strong enough to sit himself up. His head still hurts, despite all of the medication they have him on. He reaches to the nightstand where a vase of flowers is set up for the television remote and he spots a drawer. Curious, he opens it up. There's nothing in it but a scrap of pale brown cloth. He picks it up and feels the coarse material, his eyebrows knitting as he rubs it with his fingers. He knows this from somewhere. Then a flash comes to him of a tall man in a mask that looked and felt like this. He takes it off and he sees the same ice blue eyes that have haunted him in his dreams. Edward feels a smile come to his face. He knows who this man is. "Jonathan."_

 _The man's facial expression doesn't change, but Edward thinks his eyes soften just a bit. "Edward," the man says. "Edward…."_

…"Edward?

Edward straightened in his chair as he came back to himself. He wasn't in the hospital hallucinating. He was in Penelope's office, working a case. Penelope stood in front of him, a confused expression on her face. "Edward," she said again. "Did you hear anything I said?" She sounded curious, not angry. Edward thought he'd prefer anger.

"I did," he said a bit testily. "You mentioned that…Croc's escape would undermine Sharp's security claims. Which I agree with, but I doubt anyone at that so-called commission would bring it up."

Penelope's face became even more confused and Edward knew he'd screwed up. "Edward," she said carefully. "I said that over five minutes ago. Where were you?"

Edward sighed and tilted his head back. He trusted Penelope, but this was not a road he was prepared to go down with her. "You've been quiet all morning," he heard her continue. "What's wrong?"

Edward snorted a bit. "This is a change. I've never had anyone complain that I'm not talking enough before. Usually it's been the opposite." He looked at Penelope again and flinched when he saw how stern she looked.

"Deflecting with humor is not going to get you out of this Edward Nigma," she scolded. Then her face became soft again. As soft as she ever got at least. "You're clearly preoccupied about something. Is it about Strange or Sharp?"

"No," Edward answered honestly.

"Another case then?"

"It's nothing," Edward said, a little more harshly than he intended. "It's fine Penelope. I'm fine."

"Then why won't you talk about it?"

God, this woman never quit, did she? "I wasn't aware that this was going to become a session, Dr. Young. "

Penelope's face darkened a bit, then she sighed. "I don't want to fight with you Edward," she said. "But if something's wrong, even if it's personal, you can talk to me about it."

Her blue eyes looked right into his own then and Edward had to look down. Why did she have to have blue eyes, why did she have to have _his_ eyes?

 _Jonathan Crane's not much to look at, but he does have the most remarkable shade of blue eyes he's ever seen. They're beautiful, in a cold way. And they're intelligent, which Edward appreciates even more. Crane he notices doesn't speak much in the asylum, but he watches everything that happens with a laser sharp focus. And perhaps it's vanity talking, but Edward's been noticing that gaze on him more and more as time goes by. In the back of his mind, Edward knows that Crane's probably just studying him for a chance to discover what his greatest fear is, but attention is attention. Today at lunch, Edward feels Crane' stare, so this time, he stares right back and winks. Crane's expression doesn't change, but Edward thinks he can detect a flush. He smirks. Interesting…._

"…Edward? Are you alright?"

Edward looked up to see a different pair of blue eyes staring at him. He can't deal with this. Not today. "I have to go," he said, getting out of the chair. He was out the door in moments, ignoring Penelope's protests.

* * *

Edward didn't go to his office after he left, as he usually did each Friday. Instead, he went straight back to his apartment. His cell phone rang twice on his trip back, Penelope no doubt. Edward ignored it. Once he was back inside his apartment, he tossed his cane to the floor and headed straight for his hallway closet. He shoved his hanged jackets and shirt to one side as he reached down to pick up a cardboard moving box. Once he had it in his grasp, he walked back to his living room and sat on his couch, placing the box on his coffee table. He opened the lid and began to pull out the contents. Inside were old newspaper clippings of Jonathan, cataloging all of his crimes as the Scarecrow. Nina and Deirdre had compiled it for him when he was still in recovery, after Selina had told him about Jonathan's-Edward quickly shook his head. Don't think about it. Edward had only looked at the contents once or twice before putting it away in his closet. He'd thought with the passage of time, this might have been easier. It wasn't. Edward forced himself to look at the photographs. They were all of Jonathan as Scarecrow, or occasional mugshots from the GCPD. Edward had no personal pictures of Jonathan. This box, a few scattered memories, and the scrap of burlap from Jonathan's mask that had somehow been placed in his hospital bedside drawer, were all that Edward had left of Jonathan. Edward felt his eyes begin to grow misty and shut them tight. How was that possible? They'd been together for six years, until Edward's coma. Until…until…

"It's been almost two years Edward!" he scolded himself, getting up from the couch to pace around his living room. "Why are you focusing on this now?" He walked back to his couch and sank down into the cushions. He reached for the remote and turned on the TV. Perhaps a new headline would distract him.

 _"_ _As of right now, Waylon Jones' whereabouts remain unknown. Commissioner Gordon has urged that citizens exercise caution-"_

Edward let out a frustrated cry. It was the news story about Croc that had started all of this to begin with. Edward buried his face in his hands. He couldn't think about Croc without thinking about when Selina had told him….

 _…_ _When he's not in physical therapy, or suffering through an equally tedious psychiatric examination, there's precious little for Edward to do. He's already read through every book and trashy magazine the rehabilitation center staff or Dina-Nina, her name is Nina- have left for him. The television posted in his room only has five channels and he's never liked television much anyway, he thinks. He's resorted to leaning back and counting the tiles he sees on the ceiling above him and waiting for him. It's been two months now, where is he?_

 _"_ _You look like you're having fun."_

 _Edward looks up at his visitor and is, once again, slightly disappointed. It's not him. It's a beautiful woman leaning against the doorway. She has short black hair and green eyes. Selina, her name is Selina, she is-was?-his friend. He thinks. "Hardly," he says. "I'm bored."_

 _"_ _Poor baby," she coos at him and he thinks they've had this conversation before. She reaches into her large black purse and pulls out a brightly colored cube. "I got you a present." She hands it over to him, frowning when he doesn't take it at first. "It's a Rubix Cube. You love these."_

 _Did he? That sounds right, but…he takes it and places it on the night stand next to his bed. Selina moves to pull a chair up and sit next to him when he asks her the question he's been asking himself since the first week after he woke up. "Where's Jonathan?"_

 _Selina freezes. She looks up at him, her green eyes wide. "You-you remember Jonathan?"_

 _"_ _Not very well," Edward admits. "But I remember that we were together. I remember that I-" he stops. "Where is he? Why hasn't he come to see me? Doesn't he care?" Selina looks down at her lap and a thought occurs to Edward. "We-did we break up before I went into my coma?"_

 _Selina shakes her head. She looks up and it's the most serious look he ever remembers seeing from her. "Eddie," she says, "Jonathan's gone."_

 _Gone? "He left Gotham?" He left him here in a coma? No, that's not right, he wouldn't._

 _Selina seems to be at war with herself before she clutches Edward's hand in hers. "Edward," she says. "Jonathan's dead."_

 _Edward barely hears the rest. "Riot at Arkham Asylum…Killer Croc…I'm so sorry Eddie…" He sees flashes in his mind of a tall man, impossibly thin, with cold blue eyes that betrayed the slightest bit of warmth when they were directed at him, he remembers falling asleep against him on a cramped bed in Arkham Asylum, or in an apartment, he remembers quarreling with him, he remembers he loved him. He doesn't remember his own name some days, but he remembers that he loves him and now he's-_

 _She barely finishes before he hears the sound of someone screaming. "No! You're lying! He's not-he wouldn't leave me, he wouldn't.." He realizes that it's him when Selina's arms wrap tight around him and he buries himself against her, tears streaming down both their faces._

 _"_ _I'm so sorry Eddie."_

By the time Edward finally looked up, the sun was beginning to set. He blinked. Had he fallen asleep? How much time was he loosing because of these episodes? Edward leaned back against his couch. What Selina told him hadn't made sense to him. It still didn't. Jonathan could be reckless, yes, but tangling with Killer Croc? He typically, from what Edward remembered and from what looking over Jonathan's criminal files had told him, didn't interact much with the other Rogues. He certainly didn't antagonize them. And while Croc certainly had a vicious temper, he usually only used it in defensive situations. If you left him alone, he'd leave you alone. What motivation could he possibly have had for attacking Jonathan?

He recalled asking Selina once after he'd been released from the hospital. She'd shrugged, simply saying that since she hadn't been there, she didn't know the exact details. She'd given him a serious look then. "Eddie," she'd said. "There are some things you really don't want to know." Edward frowned. He'd been the man's lover. If anyone was entitled to know what exactly had happened, it was him. Another thought occurred to Edward. The burlap scrap. How had it gotten to his bedside? Who had left it there? It certainly wasn't Croc. Something about this wasn't adding up.

Edward leaned forward and took another look through the articles he had about Jonathan, paying special attention to the last articles before…the incident at Arkham. It was just as he thought. They hadn't collaborated on any kind of scheme, or were linked in any way in the articles he had. That ruled out a double cross…Edward shook his head. He was spending too much time on this. He needed to pack these up and move on. The only two people who could give him the answers he needed were out of his reach. He had a case he needed to get back to-

Edward was caught off guard by the sound of a phone ringing. Edward reached into his pocket for his cell phone, only to realize that it had died at some point during the day. He realized that the ringing was coming from a burner cell phone he kept in his jacket pocket. The only people who had this number were his informants. He couldn't afford to miss a call from them. He pulled out the phone and answered. "Yes?"

 _"Hey boss. We've got a problem on the Lower West Side."_

Edward groaned. This day just kept getting better. "Define problem. Did someone get made? Are you in jail?"

 _"Nah. One of the guys said that he spotted Croc down in the old subway tunnels down there. They're gettin' spooked."_

Edward sat up with a start. "Croc?" he repeated. "Are you sure?"

 _"Kinda hard to miss him boss. What do you want us to do? No offense, but we're not gettin' paid enough to fight with Croc."_

Edward grit his teeth at the flippant tone in the informant's voice. "Just because I'm not leaving riddles for Batman anymore doesn't mean you can take that tone with me," he said. A thought occurred to Edward. It was crazy. It was stupid. It was the only way he'd know for sure what exactly had happened to his lover. "Tell the others to pull back. I'm heading down there myself."

 _"Whoa. Boss, are you sure that's a good idea?"_

"You're not paid to second guess me!" Edward snarled. "I'll be there in an hour and you'd better not be!" He hung up the phone and got to his feet. He walked over to his hall closet and pulled out his sword cane. Cane in hand, he walked out of the apartment without locking the door behind him.

As he walked down the streets of Gotham in the darkness and cold of a February night, his mind was swirling with all of the reasons why what he was doing was a Very Bad Idea. Each reason his mind came up with for why he should turn around was countered by one simple desire: to know the truth. He'd spent six years with Jonathan Crane. He needed to know what had happened beneath Arkham Asylum that night. He deserved to know what happened. Something wasn't right, Jonathan couldn't have died like that. He couldn't have. And one way or another, he'd get the answers he needed from Waylon Jones.

Finally, Edward came upon the entrance to a subway tunnel just below the Bowery. After checking to make sure no one was following him, he descended down the steps into the dingy old terminal. There had been several subway car routes linking the different neighborhoods of Gotham once upon a time, but time, budget cuts and Rogue attacks had whittled the number down significantly. The old tunnels remained though, safe haven for the homeless population, as well as various gangs. Edward passed a few of the former, huddling around a small fire. One of them, an old man, looked up at Edward as he jumped down onto the track.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you," he said. "Someone said that Croc was down there."

"Your concern is touching," Edward drawled, "but misplaced. I have nothing to fear from the likes of Croc." If only Edward felt half as much bravado as he projected.

The homeless man shrugged and went back to warming himself by his fire. "Your funeral."

Edward scoffed then took a few steps forward. He followed the track into a tunnel and into darkness. No going back now. He needed to know the truth.

He owed Jonathan that much.


	27. Regarding Jonathan Crane, pt 2

_Saturday, February 3rd._

 _12:00 pm_

 _Ra ra Rasputin, lover of the Russian Queen! There was a cat that really was gone! Ra ra Rasputin, Russia's greatest love machine! It was a shame how he carried on..._

Ellen tapped her colored pencil to the beat of the song on her sketchbook as the bus continued down 24th Street. She'd gotten just about all the sketching she was going to get done on this trip, considering how empty the bus was. Apart from herself and the driver, the only other people on board were a mother and baby in the back of the bus, a group of high schoolers up front, and an annoyed looking middle aged man sitting in the seat across from her, glaring at the music coming from Ellen's earphones. Ellen ignored him, after she had added him to her collection of caricatures she drew of people she saw on the bus. She thought the Old Man would appreciate it. He usually did, as long as he wasn't getting caricatured.

Ellen felt the bus come to a stop and she looked up. This was her stop, 24th and Fleet street. She shoved her sketchbook into her bag, hopped out of her seat and darted out the side door as soon as it opened. She didn't usually come out by herself to this part of town, preferring to stick closer to home or going into the glitzier parts of downtown Gotham, but today was special. The Old Man said when she'd had dinner with him Wednesday night that she could come by his apartment to hang out with him today. Ellen quickened her pace as her father's apartment building came into view. She'd never admit it to the Old Man, but she did like getting to spend time with him, even if there were super villains involved. Actually, especially if there were super villains involved. Seeing him in action against Tut and that weirdo dressed as the Krampus had been pretty awesome.

She walked into the building and up the three flights of stairs that led to his apartment. From just outside, she could hear the sound of his TV. Ellen smiled. Gramma was working a double shift and wouldn't be home until late. Maybe she could convince the Old Man to let her stay long enough to watch Prime Minister's Question Time with him. She took off her headphones, raised her fist and rapped on the door. "Pops!" she called out. "I'm here!" There was no sound other than the TV. Ellen knocked again. "Wakey wakey Old Man!" Still no response. Ellen frowned. Was he in the bathroom or something? She turned the handle on the door and it opened. Well, he had to be home, didn't he? Why else would his door be unlocked? Ellen walked in, shutting the door behind her. The TV was on, and there was a box and newspapers on the coffee table, but there was no sign of the Old Man. "Pops?" Ellen called out again. "Where are you?" Ellen crossed the living room and went down the hallway to his bedroom. It was empty. There was no one in the apartment but her. Ellen began to pout as she walked back to the living room. "You better not have ditched me Old Man!" She muttered. She pulled her cell phone out of her bag and dialed her father's number. _"This is Edward Nigma, Private Investigator. I'm either with a client or otherwise preoccupied. Please leave your name and number and I'll get back you."_

Straight to voicemail? That was a little odd. The Old Man never had his phone off. "I'm here Pops," she said into the answering machine. "Where are you?" She hung up and flopped down on the couch. She looked at the scattered papers on the coffee table and began to go through them. Ellen soon realized that they were all articles about the Scarecrow. She shuddered a bit. She'd never liked that guy. He was a complete creep. She'd never heard the Old Man talk about him though. He'd mentioned a lot of the other Rogues when she'd asked, but he never talked about Scarecrow. Ellen figured he must have really hated him, but if that was the case, why did he have a whole box of stuff about him? And why was it out on his table? Wasn't the guy dead? Was the Old Man investigating something about him? Was that where he was?

Ellen leaned back and grabbed the remote. Dumb Old Man had probably gone to his office for something. He'd be back. And then she'd ask about all this stuff he had.

 _2:30 PM_

Ellen had eaten through the meager snacks the Old Man had in his kitchen and was now getting very irritated. She pulled out her phone and dialed his number again. _"This is Edward Nigma, Private Investigator. I'm either with a client or otherwise preoccupied. Please leave your name and number and I'll get back you."_

"You're a real piece of work Old Man," Ellen hissed. "Can't you call me back at least?" She hung up and continued to surf through the television channels. Where the Hell was the Old Man? Whatever he was working on, she sulked, it better be worth making her wait.

 _4:30 PM_

 _"This is Edward Nigma, Private Investigator. I'm either with a client or otherwise preoccupied. Please leave your name and number and I'll get back you."_

Ellen swallowed thickly. "Pops, it's been over four hours. You're starting to scare me. Please call me back." Ellen hung up and took her face into her hands. It had been four and a half hours and no word from the Old Man. This wasn't like him. Something was wrong. Ellen looked down at her phone. She needed to do something, call someone. Who though? She couldn't call the cops, not after what happened with that Tut guy. Ellen's eyes flashed. Selina! She should call Selina! Maybe she knew where the Old Man was! She dialed the number he father had given her a month ago. Her heart beat faster each time she heard the phone ring. Please pick up, please please please...If Selina didn't pick up, Ellen didn't know what'd she'd do. Finally, she heard a familiar voice pick up. _"Hello?"_

Ellen nearly shrieked in relief. "Selina? It's Ellen. Remember me? Edward's kid?"

 _"Ellen? Hey kiddo, what's up?"_

"Is the Old Man with you?"

 _"No, why?"_

Ellen took a deep breath. "We were supposed to meet up at his apartment today, but he wasn't there, and he's not pickin' up his phone, and I know he's a jerk, but he wouldn't just ditch me like-"

 _"Whoa kiddo, slow down. What time were you supposed to meet up with him?"_

"Noon," Ellen said. "I got here and his TV was on, but he wasn't here! I've tried calling him three times and it goes straight to voicemail."

 _"Wait. How did you get in?"_

"His door was unlocked."

 _"Did it look like anything had happened? Is the place ransacked?"_

"No," Ellen answered. "There's a bunch of papers on his coffee table, but other than that, everything looks normal."

 _"Are you there now?"_

"Yeah."

There was a pause before Selina spoke in a hard tone, _"Stay there. Lock the door and don't open it until I get there. I'm on my way."_

Selina hung up before Ellen could respond. She quickly got up and put the deadbolt on the door, and sat back against the couch, a sinking feeling in her stomach. Something bad was going on. She knew it. Ellen sat in the apartment for about half an hour until she heard a knock on the door. "Kiddo?"

Ellen got up and looked out of the peephole. Sure enough, Selina was standing outside the door, in her catsuit. Ellen opened the door to let the older woman in. Selina walked into the apartment. "Hey Ellen," she said, giving her a look over. "You OK?"

Ellen nodded, rubbing her arm. "I'm getting kinda freaked. It's not like the Old Man to just up and disappear like this."

"I know," Selina said. "Believe me, I know." Her green eyes caught the papers on the coffee table. Ellen watched as Selina crossed the room and leaned over to pick one up. Ellen saw her eyes soften as she read the contents. "Spooky?" Ellen heard her whisper. "Oh Eddie..."

There was something someone hadn't told Ellen. "Selina, what's going on?" she asked. "Do you know where my Dad is?"

Selina put the paper down and shook her head. "No," she said. "Come on. We need to talk to Dr. Young."

Ellen frowned a bit. "Who's Dr. Young?"

Selina looked a bit surprised. "Your Dad hasn't told you about Dr. Young?" She shook her head. "Anyway. She's a friend of your Dad's. They meet up on Friday mornings to talk about cases they work on. She might know where your Dad is."

Ellen nodded, then followed Selina out the door. She took one last look at the apartment before shutting the door behind her. _You'd better be OK, Old Man. You'd better be._

* * *

 _...While Charlotte has made a great deal of progress in maintaining boundaries with her family as we discussed in our last session, Andrew is becoming increasingly impatient during our sessions. I've had to remind him that while seeking counseling is an important first step, it is just that: a first step. He cannot expect all of his problems to be solved after only three sessions. I'm beginning to suspect however that he only sees our sessions as an opportunity to air his grievances against his former wife and his employer, instead of as an opportunity to do anything constructive. It's times like this that I wonder why I didn't decide to go into pure research, as my former undergraduate adviser suggested._ Penelope chewed the top of her pen for a moment before she continued to write, _Then I recall who my undergraduate adviser was, and realize it probably was for the best I didn't take his advice._

Penelope shut her journal, put down her pen and checked her watch. It was 6:00 pm. That was enough about work for now. She got up out of her lounge chair and walked towards her kitchen. Just a quick dinner, and then she'd pick up where she'd left off in her latest Psychology journal. A fairly typical Saturday evening for her. After she'd placed her soup container in the microwave, she pulled out her phone. Edward still had made no attempt to contact her after she'd called him yesterday, like she suspected he wouldn't. Penelope sighed. She'd really thought that after what happened with Victor Goodman, that they had made real progress. He freely shared information with her, he listened to her opinions, even if he was vocal about when he disagreed and he'd actually followed her advice and kept a lower profile in the month since Sharp assumed office. He was still combative and arrogant, but Penelope had begun to accept that as just a part of who he was. He was doing a better job of keeping those aspects of himself toned down in her presence at least. And yet, it felt like after yesterday, they were back at square one.

The microwave beeped and Penelope waited a moment before carefully removing her soup. She sat down at her kitchen table and idly stirred it. Alright, she conceded. It was first and foremost a work relationship. He'd never pried into her personal life and she never volunteered any information, so perhaps she couldn't expect him to talk about everything that was going on in his. Frankly, she wasn't sure she wanted to know some of it. Whatever was going on though was serious, potentially compromising. As she took a few sips, Penelope thought about what Joan had told her a few weeks ago and what she'd seen in Tetch's hideout last summer. Whatever personal issue Edward wasn't dealing with, it was connected to what he'd said. 'The person I needed the most...' Who had that been? Where were they? Penelope shook her head. If he wasn't willing to talk about it, she couldn't force him. All she could do was wait until he trusted her enough to open up about it. If he ever did.

A frantic knocking at her door almost made Penelope jump out of her seat. "Doc! Are you there?"

Penelope's eyebrows raised. That was Selina Kyle. What was she doing here? The last time she's been here had been-oh no. Not again. She should have pushed Edward harder, she should have gone by his home, she should have called Joan-Penelope rushed over to the door and opened it. Selina Kyle barely waited until the door was open before she came in. Penelope's heart sank when she realized the other woman was wearing her catsuit. "What is it?" she asked, following Selina into her living room. "What's happened?"

Selina looked at her with a serious look on her face. "Eddie's gone," she said and Penelope felt her stomach drop. "He wasn't in his apartment and he's not picking up his phone."

"Excuse me?"

Penelope sharply turned at the new voice and realized she'd left her front door open. There was a red-haired girl standing in the open doorway, her large green eyes looking beseechingly at her. Penelope's jaw dropped as she looked at the girl's face. It was like looking into Edward Nigma's face twenty years ago. The girl, dressed in an old turquoise coat, awkwardly rubbed her elbow. "Selina said you know my Dad?"

Dad? Penelope gasped, grateful she wasn't holding anything for she would have dropped it. This girl was Edward's daughter? He had a daughter? Why hadn't he told her? Realizing the girl was still standing in the doorway, Penelope awkwardly waved her in. The girl shut the door behind her and joined the other women in the living room. Selina looked at the two of them with a raised eyebrow. "Eddie never told you about her?" she asked.

Penelope shook her head. "No...we don't really talk about our personal lives."

Selina shook her head. "Well," she whispered. "This is a bit awkward."

That was an understatement. Penelope directed the girl to sit in her lounge chair. She did so, continuing to look at her. "What's your name?" Penelope asked.

"Ellen," she answered. "Ellen Dixon."

There were so many questions Penelope wanted to ask this girl, but she quickly realized she needed to stay focused on the matter at hand. "Ellen, what happened?"

Ellen took a deep breath. "I was supposed to meet up with my Old Man this afternoon, but when I got to his apartment, he wasn't there. His door was unlocked, the TV was on and he had a bunch of papers out, but he was gone."

"Papers?" Penelope asked. "What kind of papers?" Had Edward been abducted again or was this about a case?

"It was bunch of articles about Scarecrow," Selina answered. "Doc," she asked in an almost desperate tone. "You saw Eddie yesterday right? Was there any case he was working on that he told you about?"

Penelope shook her head. "No. He was preoccupied about something though. He wouldn't talk about. He left my office when I tried to ask about it. I tried calling him twice yesterday, but he didn't pick up."

"Yesterday!?" Ellen cried out. "You mean he's been gone for a whole day!?"

"We don't know that Ellen," Penelope tried to reassure her. Ellen's face remained stricken, while a dark look came over Selina's.

"He wouldn't..." Penelope heard her murmur. "He didn't..."

Penelope walked up to her. "Selina," she whispered. "Do you know what's going on?"

Selina shook her head. "Not here," she whispered, gesturing back to where Ellen was sitting, watching the two of them with narrow eyes. "I don't want to freak out the kid."

"I'm not stupid you know!" Ellen shouted. "And I'm 15 years old! I'm not a little kid! If you know where my Dad is, tell me!"

Selina looked from Penelope to Ellen, then she sighed. "I think Eddie might have gone after Croc."

Penelope gasped. "Croc? Waylon Jones? Why would-"

Selina pushed past Penelope and walked towards the door. "We need to tell Ozzie. Come on. We'll drop Ellen off and-"

"No!" Ellen shouted. She sprang out of her chair and glared at the older women, the look on her face leaving no doubts in Penelope's mind that she was indeed Edward's child. "I'm coming too!" She stomped her foot for emphasis.

"Ellen," Penelope said carefully. "This is an extremely dangerous situation. I'm sure your father wouldn't want you to get involved-"

"He's my Dad! I already am involved! And I'm not just gonna sit around at home by myself waiting for you guys to call me!"

By herself? "Where is your-"

"My Mom's dead," Ellen cut her off, anticipating the question. "My Gramma's always at work and I hate my aunt." She looked up Penelope then and her eyes were glassy. "I'm not a stupid little kid. I know who my Dad was. I know he's into a lot of dangerous stuff. But he's my Dad. I can't just do nothing."

Penelope wasn't a child psychologist, but she could see how much there was to unpack in whatever relationship there was between Edward and Ellen. She couldn't think about that now though. They needed to find Edward first and they couldn't leave his daughter alone. If she were anything like her father, she'd try to look for him herself. "Alright," she said. "You can come with us to the Iceberg Lounge, but that is as far as you go. No matter what we find out. Understand?"

Ellen nodded. "Yeah, I get it."

Selina nodded. "Alright. Let's go."

* * *

The three women had passed the car ride in silence, Penelope driving, Selina looking forward, occupied by her thoughts, and Ellen looking wistfully out the car window. When they'd arrived at the Iceberg Lounge, Penelope and Selina were ushered into the backroom, while Ellen was kept in a waiting room, to her loud protests. Selina and Penelope recounted what they'd learned the past day to Cobblepot. As Selina mentioned the newspapers articles that Edward had out, Oswald's face darkened.

"Selina dear," he said. "Are you implying what I think you're implying?"

"Ozzie, there's no other explanation I can think of. Eddie went after Croc."

Cobblepot groaned and took his face into his hands. "Edward, you fool."

Something was going on that Penelope wasn't aware of. She hated that feeling. "What is going on?" she demanded. "Edward doesn't go after other Rogues. Why would he go after Jones?"

Cobblepot looked up at her with surprise. "You-you really don't know?"

Penelope furrowed her brow. "Know what? What aren't you and Selina telling me?"

Selina and Cobblepot exchanged a long look. "I assumed, given how closely you and Edward have been working together, that you already knew," Cobblepot continued. "But if Edward hasn't told you, I don't know that it's our place to-"

"Listen," Penelope interrupted harshly. "It might not be any of my business, but Edward's daughter is sitting outside this room, almost out of her mind with worry. She deserves to know what's happened to her father!"

Selina and Cobblepot exchanged another look. Finally, Selina sighed. "Doc," she said. "You remember last year at Tetch's hideout? When Eddie and I were talking? When Eddie was going on about 'the person he needed the most'?"

Penelope felt her heart begin to pound and nodded. "Yes."

Selina took a hand through her short black hair. "That person was Jonathan Crane."

For the second time that evening, Penelope's jaw dropped. "Edward and Professor Crane? They were lovers?"

Selina look wide eyed at her. "Professor-Wait. Don't tell me. Crane was your professor!?"

Penelope nodded, barely registering the question. "He was. Briefly." It had been her sophomore year at Gotham University. Crane's class on Fear and Phobias was considered by most other students in the psychology program as the most difficult and disturbing class the school had to offer. She hadn't been able to resist the challenge. She'd known the man before he was a Rogue. She'd even respected him. She'd felt regretful when she'd heard what had happened to him during the riot- She sank into a chair in front of Oswald's desk as the realization dawned on her. Edward and Crane had been lovers. Crane had died while Edward was in a coma. Edward had woken up in a hostile world, with little to no memories of his past, and his lover was dead. That was the past event that Joan had noted. Everything about his distant behavior made a horrible sense to her now. It was a Delayed Grief Response. He'd been using his work as an excuse to not deal with his emotions about Crane, and hearing the news about Jones' escape must have been the spark that had set him off. "We have to find him," she said. She looked up at Cobblepot and Selina. "We have to find Edward. He's not behaving rationally. If he confronts Jones in the state he's in, he'll get killed!"

"Not that I don't agree Dr. Young, but that's easier said then done," Cobblepot said. "Croc could be anywhere underneath Gotham. I'll certainly send my men out, but it will be like looking for a needle in a haystack."

"Ozzie," Selina said, giving him a sharp look. "You and I both know there's only one person who has any chance of finding Eddie in time."

Cooblepot scowled and Penelope knew who Selina was referring to. "Batman?" she asked.

Selina nodded. "I know you don't like it Ozzie, but we really don't have any other choice."

Penelope agreed. Edward would be furious, but that was better than him being dead. For a long moment, Penelope sat deep in thought, her mind going over every interaction she'd had with Edward over the past year, now that she had this new information. She was a trained psychiatrist. Why hadn't she seen this? She remembered too back at the Asylum, before the riot. After Edward had fallen into his coma, there had been a period of time when Crane had been even more uncooperative in his sessions with his doctors. He'd even physically attacked an orderly before being put into solitary. It had passed after a few weeks and no one thought any more about it. Had he been in mourning for Edward? He must have been, the timing fit. Why had no one made the connection? No one had thought Crane or Edward capable of being in a romantic relationship probably, let alone be in one with each other. Penelope sighed. Between this and the discovery of Ellen's existence, one thing was becoming clear to her. For all the time she'd spent with him in sessions at Arkham and working with him now, she really didn't know Edward at all.

The sound of the door opening drew her out of her thoughts. One of the restaurant managers poked his head inside the office. "Mr. Cobblepot? The kid's having a fit about being in the waiting room. She says she's going to walk out. What do you want us to do with her?"

Penelope got up out of her chair and answered before Cobblepot could respond. "I'll talk to her." She turned to Selina. "Do what you need to do. Call me as soon as you find out anything."

Selina nodded. "Will do."

Penelope walked out of the office and followed the manager down the hallway towards the waiting room Ellen had been left in. She heard Ellen arguing with another manager as she approached. "I don't care what that fat ass said, I'm outta here! I'm gonna go find my Dad with or without you morons!"

Penelope reached the room just as the other manager stormed out. "You here for that brat?" he asked as he passed her. "Good luck!"

Penelope ignored him and almost walked right into Ellen. Ellen calmed down only slightly when she saw her. "Well?" she asked. "What's going on? Are we going to go find my Dad?"

Penelope sighed. "No," she said. "Selina's going to call Batman. He'll find your father, I promise."

Ellen's eyes widened at the mention of Batman, then she finally relaxed. "OK," she nodded. "OK. "

Penelope felt relieved. At least Ellen wouldn't be tempted to run after her father now, she hoped. Ellen looked quizzically at her. "I still don't get it," she said. "Why would Pops go after Croc?"

Penelope bit her lip. "Ellen," she asked. "How much does your father talk about his past with you?"

Ellen shrugged. "Not much." She scoffed. "He doesn't really talk to me about his cases either. He thinks I'm 'too young' to hear about it."

It seemed Edward kept a fair degree of separation between Ellen and his work. Penelope didn't think she'd do any differently in his place, but it would make this conversation awkward. "Ellen," she said. "We think your father went after Jones because of what he did to Jonathan Crane."

Ellen looked confused for a moment. "Scarecrow? Why would he-" Then she seemed to make the same realization Penelope had earlier. "No way. Pops and Scarecrow-That's why he's got a box of stuff about him? They used to date?"

"That's a conversation you'll have to have with your father when Batman finds him." Batman would find him. Penelope had to believe that.

Ellen's face fell. "Pops ran off to try to kill Croc, didn't he?"

Penelope didn't know. She wasn't sure if Edward had gone after Jones for information, or for vengeance. She hoped it was the former, but..."It's almost eight. I should take you back home."

Ellen nodded. Penelope went to lead her out of the restaurant and back to her car when Ellen suddenly said, "My Gramma's not getting back until really late." She looked up at her plaintively. "Will you stay with me for a bit? I don't wanna be alone."

Penelope didn't need to think about her answer. "Yes." She owed Edward that much.


	28. Regarding Jonathan Crane, pt 3

_Saturday, February 3rd_

 _8:30 pm_

Since he'd escaped from Arkham Island almost 24 hours earlier, Croc had kept a low profile. Bruce knew though it would only be a matter of time before he caught his trail somewhere beneath the city. Croc was predictable. Dick was already out scouring the Bowery for information, while Oracle and Tim listened in on any radio chatter. Bruce himself was driving into the Bowery, after giving Gordon his latest update.

 _"How goes your search Master Bruce?"_

Bruce pressed the intercom on the car to respond. "No sign of Croc yet. I'm going to meet Dick now in the Bowery. According to an associate of his, Croc has a lair somewhere beneath the old Blue Line subway tunnels. We'll be checking that out first. How's everything back at the Manor?"

 _"As well as can be expected, though Master Damian is quite insistent that he should have been allowed to accompany you."_

"No," Bruce said adamantly. "Damian's not prepared to take on someone like Croc just yet."

 _"You and Master Dick should exercise caution as well. I know how difficult your last encounter with Croc was for you sir."_

Bruce's grip tightened on the Batmobile's steering wheel. His last encounter with Croc had been the night of the Arkham Riot, when he'd been down in Croc's lair to get the spore samples that would counteract Dr. Young's TITAN formula. His encounter with Croc had been difficult yes, but it was what had happened before that still haunted him at night, almost two years later...

 _...He's still fighting off the effects of Crane's latest toxin as he chases the Rogue down into the sewers. It's more potent than it's ever been. He should of seen this coming he thinks. Crane had been too quiet since Nigma went into his coma. That always meant that he was up to something. Finally, he reaches the door that leads into Croc's lair and goes through it. He stops and slowly walks in. Scarecrow is in control tonight, not Crane. That makes the situation even more dangerous._

 _He sees Crane at the edge of the water, holding his pouch above it. "Stay back!" He cries out, his usually deep voice high and tinged with mania. "Or this goes into the water supply!" He dangles the bag over the edge and Bruce pauses. There's no reasoning with him at this point. Any scraps of human decency that Crane had ever had had gone with Nigma. Bruce slowly begins to reach for a batarang from a back pouch on his belt._

 _"Don't! I warn you!" Crane shouts again. "There's enough toxin to drive Gotham mad with fear for a hundred years!"_

 _"Don't do it Crane," Bruce says. Then he pulls the one card he thinks he has left, even if it disgusts him to do so. "Edward is still out there Jonathan. Will you doom him too?"_

 _For a moment, Crane hesitates. "Edward..." he says. Then his voice hardens. "You took him from me. You"ll pay for that. This whole goddamn city will pay for that!" He raises the pouch over the water again and Bruce reaches behind his belt. He'll only have one shot, he needs to make it count-_

 _Suddenly something rises from the water and grabs onto Crane. Bruce realizes it's Croc. Croc raises the scrawny man above his head and the pouch falls harmlessly onto the ground. Bruce races to pick it up before firing the batarang at Croc's shock collar. The collar goes off, shocking Croc, but he does not let go of Crane. With a growl, he plunges back into the murky depths, taking Crane with him._

 _Bruce should go after them. He's not sure what Croc intends to do with Crane, but he has to stop him. He's about to dive into the water when the Earth above him shakes. The TITAN infected plants are still growing. He needs to get the spores for the antidote or everyone on this island will die, to say nothing of what Joker will do if he gets into Gotham City. But if he doesn't go in, Jonathan Crane may die. One life, vs hundreds, potentially thousands... He takes one last look at the water, then he continues into the lair..._

...That was the last time anyone had seen or heard from Jonathan Crane. As far as Gotham and the rest of the world was concerned, the man was dead. Bruce sighed. He should have been more resistant to the fear toxin. He should have been quicker to disarm Crane. He should have gone after Croc. Every death that happened on his watch, no matter whose it was, was his responsibility.

 _"Are you alright Sir? You've been quiet."_

Bruce shook off the memory and focused back on the road. "I'm fine. I'll check in again when I meet with Dick." Bruce shut off the intercom and prepared to make the turn into the Bowery. Then his car phone rang. Bruce narrowed his eyes. That couldn't be Alfred or Barbara. He pressed the talk button to answer the phone. "Yes?"

 _"Bruce?"_

Bruce's eyebrows raised under the cowl. "Selina? What is it?"

"I need to see you."

The almost desperate tone in her voice immediately set Bruce on edge. Selina was never desperate. "What's wrong?"

 _"It's Eddie. I think he's in real trouble."_

Not Nigma. Not now. What could he have possibly gotten up to-Croc. Did Nigma-

 _"You look like Hell," is the first thing Selina says when he staggers into her apartment. He should go back to Wayne Manor to rest, but he needed to see her first. Selina can sense something deeper than exhaustion brought him here. "Bruce. What's wrong?"_

 _Bruce takes a breath. "Jonathan Crane's dead."_

 _Selina's eyes widen. "What? How?"_

 _"I chased him down into Croc's lair. He was dangling a pouch of fear toxin over the water. Croc grabbed him and dragged him under." He should have gone after them. He knows now he had time. Why didn't he?_

 _Selina sinks onto her couch. "Jesus..." her hand comes up to her mouth as she gasps. "Oh God! Bruce! Eddie! How am I going to tell Eddie?"_

Bruce shook his head. "Where are you?"

"I'm on the roof of the Iceberg Lounge."

Bruce made a sharp u-turn. "I'll be there in ten minutes."

* * *

Selina was waiting alone on the roof of the Iceberg Lounge, just as she said she'd be. She looked visibly relieved when she saw Bruce as he approached. "Hey handsome."

Bruce wished he could take the time to exchange pleasantries with her. "What happened with Nigma?"

Selina sighed. "He's gone Bruce. He's not at his apartment or his office and he hasn't answered his phone for over 24 hours." Selina's eyes softened slightly. "When I was by his apartment earlier, he had a box of news clipping about Crane out on his coffee table. He's gone after Croc Bruce. I know it."

Bruce knew she was right. He remembered when Selina told him about Edward's reaction when she informed him about what had happened to Crane. He should have told Tim or Dick to check on him when they'd gotten word about Croc's escape. "When was the last time anyone saw or spoke to him?"

"Yesterday morning," she answered. "We didn't know he was gone until earlier this afternoon."

So Edward had potentially been gone for over 24 hours. Bruce narrowed his eyes. He could be anywhere underneath Gotham by now. He might be dead. He clenched his fist. He should have never let Croc take Crane. He should have kept a closer eye on Edward. He should have done better by both of them, but he didn't and Crane was dead. And Edward potentially was too.

He felt Selina's hand on his shoulder. "Bruce," she said gently. "What happened to Crane wasn't your fault."

"I'm responsible for it Selina. I could have done more to prevent it. I should have gone after Croc."

"Bruce, the whole island was going to Hell, you'd just been exposed to enough fear toxin to drive ten people insane and you were on Croc's home turf. If you'd gone after them, you would have died." She gently reached up to cup Bruce's chin. "What happened to Crane was horrible, but he knew the risks going down there. You can't make yourself responsible for everything. We can't bring Crane back, but we can still save Eddie."

She was right. Edward's safety was the priority now. He reached up to take her hand. "I'll find him Selina," he promised. "If Edward's down there, I'll find him before it's too late."

Selina withdrew her hand and smiled. "I know," she said. "I'm coming with you."

"Selina," Bruce warned. "This will be dangerous."

"Oh really?" Selina drawled. "Going down into the sewers to chase Killer Croc will be dangerous? You don't say." Her face grew serious. "Eddie's my friend. If we find him before Croc does, I'm one of the only people around who might be able to talk sense into him. We both know he won't listen to you."

Bruce didn't like the idea of Selina coming with him, but he conceded the point. "Alright, but be careful."

"Relax," she said, sauntering towards the edge of the rooftop. "I'll just grab Eddie and get out. I'll leave the fighting to you."

* * *

Nightwing was waiting by the entrance to the Old Blue Line Bowery Station when Bruce pulled up in the Batmobile. He gave Bruce a quick nod of acknowledgement then did a double take when he saw Selina exit the vehicle. She gave him a small wave. "Hi Boy Wonder."

Nightwing looked over to Bruce. "You wanna fill me in?"

Bruce locked down the Batmobile and walked over to Nightwing. "Nigma's gone after Croc," he explained. "We need to find him before he finds Croc."

Nightwing's eyes went wide under his domino mask. "Aw jeez..." He looked back towards Selina, who had joined him by the entrance. "I take it you're here to try to save Eddie from himself?"

Selina stretched her arms out above her head. "Try the key word there." She glanced at the entrance. "Ready boys?"

Nightwing stepped to the side and swept his arms towards the entrance "After you my Lady." Selina chuckled a bit and stepped through, followed by Bruce and Nightwing. The three descended the steps into the old station and walked out onto the old platform. Bruce winced as he saw the homeless gathered around meager fires, barely looking up at them as they passed. Budget cuts had forced the city to close down much of the shelters. Bruce would have to see that some of the Wayne Charity Foundation's budget went towards opening new ones. The three passed one older man who was sitting by the edge of the platform. He looked up at them with vague curiosity.

"You here for Croc or for Riddler?"

Selina looked sharply down at the man. "You saw Riddler? When?"

"Last night," the man answered. "Told him Croc was there. I warned him not to go down there. He didn't listen though."

Bruce narrowed his eyes. Edward had been down here for 24 hours. They needed to hurry. He jumped onto the tracks and gestured for Selina and Nightwing to follow him.

As they walked down the tunnel, the faint light from the fires on the platform completely dimmed. Bruce pulled a small flashlight out of a pocket on his belt and clicked it on, illuminating the tunnel before them. For a while, they walked on in silence, until Nightwing broke it.

"Going up against Croc...what's Eddie thinking? He's got to know he doesn't stand a chance against him."

"He's not thinking," Selina answered. "He's not being rational." She clucked her tongue. "He never really was rational where Spooky was concerned."

"I'll say," Nightwing muttered. "I never understood what he saw in Crane."

"Neither did I," Selina admitted. "But Eddie loved Crane. He still does love him. It doesn't matter what I think. And I think Spooky loved him back, in his own way. It wasn't like Joker and Harley."

Crane was a misanthrope who enjoyed the terror he caused, despite a token attempt to pass off his actions as 'pure research.' He disregarded all other concerns, including his health, as something completely beneath his notice. If there had been anyone on Earth that Jonathan Crane had truly cared for though, it was Edward Nigma. His always precarious grip on himself had slipped for good after that last fight in Metropolis, when Edward had finally bitten off more than he could chew. Bruce had been at that battle with the rest of the League, but he didn't see Edward go down. It wasn't until after the fight that he saw Shining Knight, standing over Edward's limp body. He almost didn't recognize him through all the blood. Shining Knight was still holding the bloody mace, stammering out apologies as Bruce had cradled Edward's body and yelled for a medic. Bruce suspected that Edward's earlier dip in the Lazarus Pit was the only reason he survived, even if his memories couldn't be salvaged. The only thing that comforted Bruce was the fact that Crane hadn't been there to witness it. Regardless, that had been the start of his final, fatal descent. Bruce felt his grip on his flashlight tighten. He'd had a hand in everything that had happened to Crane and Edward in the last few years. That was something he'd never forgive himself for.

Bruce paused when he noticed something up ahead. An open manhole, with the lid cast aside. He slowly walked over to the open space and shone his light down. It was about a six foot drop, with railings. Bruce went down first, shining his light to make sure there were no surprises waiting for them. When he saw it was clear, he gestured for Dick and Selina to follow him.

"You think Eddie was here?" Selina asked when she joined him.

"Yes," Bruce answered. "Let's keep going."

"He's been down here for a whole day," Nightwing said. "What's he been doing? Do you think he found Croc?"

"He could have gotten lost down here," Selina argued. "Maybe we'll run into him."

Bruce doubted that and he'd be surprised if Selina actually believed that.

"So what's the plan if we do find him?" Nightwing asked.

"I'm going to try to talk him into going back up with me," Selina answered. "And if he doesn't listen, I'm going to need your help hog-tying him and dragging him back up."

Nightwing snorted. "Great. Just like old times. I'm sure he'll really appreciate it too."

Bruce's attention was caught by the sound of water. That and the smell told them that they were in the sewers proper.

"I really hate when we have to chase after Croc," Nightwing complained, holding his nose. "Just once, can't he hide out in a bakery, or a field of flowers or something?"

"Eddie must be driven to find him," Selina added. "That's the only reason he'd be down here."

Bruce didn't respond, leading the way forward. If Croc was down here, they needed to be on the alert.

* * *

"Either of you boys have the time?"

Nightwing pulled up the sleeve of his costume. "12:30. We've been down here for about four hours, I don't think we're in the Bowery anymore."

Bruce accessed the palmtop computer embedded in his right glove. "According to my schematics, we're under the Diamond District."

"You think Eddie made it this far?" Nightwing asked.

"He's got to be down here somewhere," Selina said. "You don't happen to have a tracking device on Eddie, do you?"

"No." Bruce said. He'd considered putting one in Ed's cane when they worked together on the Sharp case last year, but he'd decided against it. There was too much of a risk that Edward would have found out and be set off by it and there was a part of Bruce that had wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. With everything that had happened since then, Bruce wished that he had. He'd promised himself when Edward had woken up and announced his intent to reform, that he'd do what he could to ensure he stayed reformed...

 _...The office Edward had chosen to set up shop at is small, but Bruce supposes it will do. He'd decided that morning to pay the former rogue a visit as Bruce Wayne. There were things he needed to know about Edward, things he didn't think he'd find out as easily if he went as Batman. The door to what he assumes is the waiting room was wide open, so Bruce walks in. He raises an eyebrow at the open boxes that litter the floor. "Hello?" he calls out. "Anyone home?"_

 _He hears a noise and Edward appears, walking out of the room just beyond the waiting room. His eyes widen in recognition when he sees him and Bruce tenses. The moment of truth. Does Edward remember that Bruce Wayne is Batman?_

 _"I know your face," Edward murmurs. Then a smile appears on his face, one that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Of course! You're Bruce Wayne!"_

 _This is a good sign, Bruce thinks, but he's still cautious as he reaches out to shake his hand. "Indeed I am."_

 _Edward takes his hand and shakes it, more out of a desire to be polite Bruce thinks. "I'm sorry for the mess in here. I just moved in."_

 _"No worries," Bruce says. "I can only imagine how busy you must be."_

 _Edward picks up one of the boxes on the floor and sets it on what will probably become a secretary's desk. "So," he says in a jovial tone that sounds just a bit forced, "How can I help the wealthiest man in Gotham today?" A look passes on Edward's face. "You're not here to settle a score with me are you? I don't remember if I've ever robbed you or not."_

 _Either Edward is doing a very good job of mocking him, or he legitimately doesn't remember. Bruce is beginning to think it's the latter. Time to do another test. "I actually came to ask for your help."_

 _Edward's eyes widen in genuine surprise then. "You-my help?" He recovers and claps his hands together. "Well then! What kind of conundrum do you have for me?"_

 _Bruce takes the opportunity to study the man before him. Edward's put on weight since he's been released, looking healthier than Bruce had seen him for a long time. His eyes no longer have that manic gleam Bruce remembers from the last few encounters they'd had before Metropolis, but Bruce thinks they're a bit duller than they used to be. The purple shades obscure them somewhat. Bruce clears his throat and continues. "We've been having a rash of break ins at Wayne Towers in the past two weeks. I'd like you to take a look into it." Bruce had already figured out that a security guard was part of a robbery ring and was assisting his friends in breaking in. He wants to see if Edward can come to the same conclusion. He wants to know how sharp his mind still is._

 _Edward pulls out a pad of paper and a pencil from the desk drawer and jots this down. "Break ins...Do you have security footage?"_

 _"Yes. You'll have access to everything you might need." Bruce pulls out his checkbook and writes an amount down. "I think this should about cover it."_

 _Edward takes the check from Bruce's hand and his eyes almost bug out at the amount. "This-Mr. Wayne I-" Edward passes the check back. "This is too much. I can't accept it."_

 _Selina told Bruce that Edward wasn't quite his old self just yet. Now Bruce fully believes it. "Mr. Nigma," he says. "Edward. Please. I want you to take it."_

 _Edward eyes the check for a long moment, then takes it and puts it in his pocket quickly, as if he thinks that Bruce will change his mind and demand it back. "I'll get started on the case right away," he says. The man wets his lip and continues. "You must have a lot of options Mr. Wayne. Why me? I can't imagine your board at Wayne Enterprises would be too happy about this."_

 _"No, the probably won't be," Bruce admits. "But I believe you really do want a fresh start. And I believe in second chances..."_

"Bruce!"

Selina's voice jolted him out of his memory. Before he could respond, she rushed past him, running to what looks like a scrap of cloth on the ground about ten feet from them. A green scrap of cloth. Bruce rushed to catch up to Selina as she picked it up off the ground. When he was next to her, he got a closer look. It was Edward's green bowler hat. "He was here," Selina said. "I knew it."

"So what happened?" Nightwing asked. "Did Croc...?"

Bruce shone the flashlight around the immediate area. No blood. The water wasn't deep enough in this part of the sewer for Croc to have dragged him under either. His lair must be close by. "Come on," he said. "Stay behind me." He can hear Selina unfurl her whip and Dick ready his fighting sticks. The three of them continued on down the sewer. About ten minutes later, they hit a junction.

"Which way?" Selina asked.

"It's too dangerous to split up," Bruce said. He looked back down at his glove. The signal was weak down here, but he could just make out the map of the sewer system that Oracle had uploaded to the server for such an occasion. "The left leads to deeper water. The right's a dead end. We should go left."

Before either of his companions could reply, they heard a long, loud scream from the left. It was one of the most terrible noises Bruce had ever heard. It was a cry of pain, anger, and agony. Dick and Selina's eyes were both wide. "Was that Eddie?" Dick asked.

Selina stood frozen for a moment. "Oh my God! EDDIE!"

Without a word, Bruce ran towards the direction the cry had come from at top speed. He barely heard Dick and Selina behind him in full pursuit. He thought about Metropolis. He thought about the night Jonathan Crane had died. He would not fail Edward again.


	29. Regarding Jonathan Crane, pt 4

_Warning: Graphic descriptions of violence are in this chapter. Proceed with caution._

 _24 Hours Earlier_

The only sound Edward heard as he ventured down the dark subway tunnel was the sound of his shoes crunching against the gravel. As the light from the fire on the platform dimmed, Edward pulled a small flashlight out from his coat pocket. The light only illuminated a few feet in front of him and Edward cringed at the occasional rat that crossed his path. Ten minutes or so after he'd jumped down onto the track, Edward spotted a manhole in front of him. Edward set his cane and flashlight down and crouched down to lift the cover up and over, uncovering the entrance. Once this was done, he picked up his flashlight again and shone it down. He could see the ground beneath him and no signs of life. Faintly, he heard the sound of rushing water and he knew that this led down to the sewers proper.

Edward hesitated for a moment, looking down into the black hole beneath him. What was he doing here? What did he really think this was going to accomplish? He didn't remember having any particular grudge with Jones, but that didn't mean the man would be happy to see him. Edward looked behind him in the direction of the subway platform. He could go back home right now, pack up the box and focus on his cases, like he had been doing for the past year and a half. He never had to think about Jonathan Crane again...

 _..."You know what I like about you?"_

 _Jonathan doesn't look up from his book. Edward is sitting on the table next to him in the Arkham library. They're allowed an hour in the library each as part of their recreation time, in between sessions and meal time in the cafeteria. Today isn't the first time Edward has intruded on Jonathan's reading time, but this is the first time that the older rogue has allowed Edward this close to him without threatening him. Edward intends to take advantage of that. "You're like me." Edward continues._

 _This gets a raised eyebrow from Jonathan, though he doesn't look up still. "Am I supposed to take that as a compliment or an insult?" he drawls._

 _Edward chuckles a bit. "A compliment of course. Let me elucidate: almost everyone else in our merry band of misfits practically was gift wrapped their new identities. Ivy and Fries and Langstrom were lab accidents, Karlo stole his abilities from those who came before him, even Joker has a vat of acid to thank for his notoriety. Myself however?" Edward leans down so he can look directly in Jonathan's face. "Everything that I have, I built through my own intellect and perseverance. I'm entirely self made." Edward's right hand slowly sneaks close to Jonathan's own. "You're the same way I think." Edward lowers his tone. "I admire that about you." He means it too. There isn't a person in this Godforsaken asylum that he admires more than Jonathan Crane._

 _Jonathan's facial expression doesn't change, but he closes his book. "Interesting analysis, but there is one key difference between us." Jonathan looks up at Edward then, his ice blue eyes boring into his own and he feels rooted to his spot on the table. "All my life," Jonathan says, "I was told that I was a monster. My Granny called my very existence a sin against God Almighty. I decided finally that if I was a monster, I was going to be the greatest monster there ever was." Jonathan's eyes take on a wicked gleam as he speaks and Edward can feel goosebumps form. "I showed them all just what a monster I could be. You on the other hand? You've been trying to prove people wrong all your life." Edward nearly leaps out of his skin when he feels Jonathan's cold fingers grasp onto his chin. "Your Daddy told you you were a moron didn't he? How you were never going to amount to a damn thing in your life?" How does he know-"It's obvious in the way you carry yourself, Edward," Jonathan continues. "But you didn't accept that did you? You were going to show the whole world just how smart and special you are. And no matter how many times you've been swatted down, you just won't quit. You get back up and do it all over again." Jonathan's fingers move upwards to brush against Edward's cheek. "You are," he murmurs, "The most interesting man I've ever known Edward Nigma." Edward nearly melts, until he feels Jonathan's fingers drop and sees the man get up out of his chair. "As well as the most aggravating." Jonathan leaves without another word. Edward's breath comes in gasps as his heart beats in his chest. Jonathan wants him. He knows it now. It's just a matter of coaxing him a bit more until he can admit it..._

...When Edward came out of the memory, he was at the bottom of the hole, making his way into the sewers proper. The smell of the sewage almost made him gag, but he kept on, a mantra repeating over and over in his mind. I have to know. I have to know. I have to know.

Edward glanced at his watch. It was just after two am. He'd been down here for five hours and there was no sign of Croc. Edward paused for a moment to rub his eyes. He'd been going in a straight line since he'd descended down from the tracks. He couldn't have gotten lost. Perhaps his informants and the old man on the platform had been wrong. Perhaps Jones had moved on. Perhaps Batman had already apprehended him. He was tired. Edward shook his head and kept going. I have to know. I have to know.

Since he'd come down here, the only sound he'd heard were his own footsteps and the sound of rushing water. Suddenly, he heard a deep rumbling. Edward stood still and shone his light at the water. Nothing. The water down here was only about two feet deep from the looks of it, Jones couldn't leap out and drag him under like he did to Jonathan-Edward forced himself to take a deep breath. Don't think about it.

"Who's there?"

Edward whirled around to see a hulking figure dressed in tattered clothing come from around the corner. In the darkness, he could make out green scales. Edward shined his flashlight at the figure and it growled. Edward gulped and screwed up all his courage. "Waylon Jones?"

Croc paused and narrowed his eyes. "Nigma? That you? What do you want? You come down here for the reward?"

Edward let out a nervous chuckle. "Hardly. I came down here for information."

Croc's irritated expression gave way to a grin. Edward suppressed a shudder as he saw his sharp yellow teeth, clotted with old gore. "You here about Jonny, ain't ya? Been so long, I thought you forgot about Jonny." Croc began to walk forward again and Edward reflexively took a step back. Croc's response was a guttural laugh. "You scared Eddie?"

Edward's grip tightened on his cane. "There's no need for violence," he said. "Just tell me what I need to hear and I'll leave you to your sewer adventures."

"That so?" Croc asks. He finally stopped when he was just in front of Edward. He was tall, taller than Edward remembered. More bestial too. When had that happened? Croc moved a massive clawed hand down towards him. "You shouldn't have come down here Eddie."

Edward jumped back and attempted to unsheathe his sword cane, dropping his flashlight into the water. Before he could get the handle off, he felt Croc pick him up by the back of his head. The last thing he felt was the brick wall as his body was thrown against it.

When Edward woke up, he was in a small alcove, a lone bulb being the only source of light. He tried to get up, only to collapse. His head hurt. His body hurt. He squinted at his surroundings and realized he'd lost his glasses during the encounter. Something was on his face though, something sticky. He raised up a hand and pressed his fingers against his temple, before hissing in pain and drawing them away. Blood was on his purple gloves. A head injury, possibly a concussion. His eye lids felt heavy and he wanted nothing more than to go to sleep, but he bit the inside of his cheek. He needed to stay awake. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his cane propped up against the brick wall. He tried to get up to his feet again, only to fall onto his knees. He tried to crawl to it instead, only to hear a deep, raspy laughter.

"Look who's finally awake."

Edward winced. Croc. Edward turned around to see him standing over him, like a predator guarding his prey. "Thought I might've killed ya," the rogue continues. "Glad I didn't. Not after you came down to visit me."

"How long have I been-"

"'Bout a day," Croc says. "You look like Hell."

A day? A whole day? Edward remembered he was supposed to see Ellen today. Is she worried, is she looking for him, is anyone looking for him? "Look who's talking," Edward managed to grit out. "I'm a bit surprised you didn't kill me, considering your reputation."

Croc laughed again. "I was gonna, but I thought you wanted to know what happened to Jonny before you went. Ain't that why you're down here?"

Edward clenched his fist. "I've been told what happened," he said. "But I don't believe it. I want to hear it from you."

In the dim light, Edward could see Croc's face harden. "Joker had his plants tearin' apart the island. Batman was sniffin' around too-"

"I know the background!" Edward shouted and his head hurt even more with the strain. "I want to hear about Jonathan."

Croc sneered. "Jonny Boy came runnin' down into my lair with that fear crap of his in a bag. Batman came down after him and Jon Boy held that crap over the water, sayin' he was gonna drop it in, poison the water."

Edward shut his eyes. In his mind, he could see Jonathan that night, holding Batman at bay with his bag of fear toxin. Why had he done that? Why didn't he just run when the Joker took over the asylum? "Go on."

"I heard them talkin' 'bout you too Eddie. Jonny said he was gonna make the whole city pay for what happened to you."

Edward whimpered and felt tears beginning to leak out of his shut eyes. Jonathan...

"He was gonna do it too. So I grabbed him. Batman threw one of his things at the shock collar the doctors at Arkham had me wearin'. I took Jonny and went back under water. I was gonna let him go after knockin' him around a bit but then I thought about you. And what you did to me."

Edward's eyes opened. "What..what I did to you? What are you talking about?"

Croc leaned down so that his face was only inches away from Edward's. Edward could feel the man's breath on his face and the smell made him want to retch. "You and Thomas Elliott," Croc growled. "You don't remember!?"

Edward recognized the name Thomas Elliott vaguely. He felt his blood run cold. He couldn't recall details, but he knew on an instinctual level that he was someone to be feared. "I-I don't-"

Croc growled again. "I remember what you did." He gestured to his large, scaly body. "I didn't used to be like this. I used to be smaller. You and Elliott. You did something to me. You made me bigger. More like an animal. Then you told me you'd cure me if I helped you. You used me."

Edward couldn't recall any of this. He thought he saw flashes of a man wrapped in bandages. Hush little baby, don't say a word...

"Elliott told me it was you," Croc continued. "But then you went and got yourself in a coma and I couldn't get to you." Croc bared his teeth again in a twisted grin. "Then I remembered how sweet you were on old Jonny Boy."

Edward's stomach dropped. No. No. No no no no no. It wasn't anything Jonathan had done. It was him. It was revenge against him. Croc laughed. "You wanna know what happened to Jonny Boy? I ate him. I ripped the flesh from his bones. I chewed the skin off his face first. He couldn't feel fear anymore, but he could feel pain. He went down screaming."

Edward was going to be sick. _Jonathan Crane I presume?_

"He put up a fight though. Had those long needles on his fingers. He tried to stab me with them. I bit them off next. I swallowed them down, bones and all."

 _He couldn't speak. His breath was coming in deep gasps. He's not much to look at, but he has beautiful eyes._

"He tasted nasty. All skin and bones. No fat. But I thought of you every time I bit down and I swallowed him down, piece by piece."

Edward held his hands over his ears, trying in vain to keep the mental images out. _He's fascinating too, in an odd way. Solemn, but with a hint of some demented sense of whimsy. Stoic, but as given to pettiness as anyone else here. And so, so intelligent. He may be the most fascinating puzzle Edward's ever encountered. He wants to spend the rest of his life trying to figure out Jonathan Crane._

"I bit off his leg next. He was still alive, begging me to just kill him already. I started slowin' down a bit, just so he wouldn't die so quick. Bled like a stuck pig though. Lots of blood for such a scrawny guy."

Edward was trembling now. _Darling, Dearest, Jonathan, Jonathan..._

 _"What in the Hell have you done to me!?"_

 _Edward frowns and glares at his partner on this heist. "Me?" He asks. "What are you talking about?"_

 _Jonathan throws his mask down on the floor and stalks towards Edward. "I could've had Batman at my mercy," he says. "I could have, if you hadn't just about got yourself captured!"_

 _Jonathan stalks toward Edward until the younger man is pressed against the wall of the small living room in their hideout. The loot from their heist lies on the couch, completely disregarded by the two men. Jonathan is almost pressed flush against Edward. Edward looks up at him, defiantly. "You could have just left me," he says. "I certainly didn't ask you to stay behind and help me!"_

 _Jonathan grabs the front of Edward's suit jacket and for the first time since he first met him, Edward is afraid of him. "No," he says. "No I couldn't have." Jonathan leans in and captures Edward's mouth in a rough kiss. Edward only hesitates for a moment before he throws his arms around Jonathan's thin shoulders._

"When he finally stopped hollerin' and screamin', I dragged him back to my lair. He was still alive though. He was alive for a couple minutes after that. You wanna know what his last word was?" Croc lowered his tone, so that he was almost whispering into Edward's ear. "It was your name, Eddie."

 _They've finished, but Jonathan's still inside of him. His long fingers brush the errant locks of auburn hair out of Edward's face, with more gentleness than anyone who calls themselves the Master of Fear should possess. "Edward," he murmurs, his low drawl softer than he's ever heard it. "I think I may be in love with you."_

Jonathan loved him. Jonathan was the only person who had ever loved him. And he was gone. And Edward had loved him and he was gone and he was never coming back and it was all his fault and he loved him so much and he would never see him again-

"I've still got his bones in my lair at Arkham. I use them to pick my teeth clean. That answer your question Eddie?"

Edward couldn't hold back anymore. This was too much. He gave into the anger, fear and despair he'd kept at bay for the past two years, threw his head back and let out a long, keening scream. He launched himself forward again to reach for his cane, when he felt Croc's hand grab him by the ankle and pull him back. "I'll kill you!" Edward screamed again, his throat raw. "I'll kill you!"

Croc just laughed. He grabbed Edward by the back of his neck and lifted him up. "Don't worry Eddie," he rumbled. "I'll send you to Jonny right now!" Croc opened his jaws wide and Edward screwed his eyes shut and let out one last cry. At least he'd see Jonathan again...

He heard the sound of something fly past his head and impact the wall behind Croc. Edward cracked his eyes open and saw a Batarang implanted in the wall, blinking. A bright light flashed and Croc let Edward drop to the ground, bringing his hands up to his eyes and growling in pain. A black mass vaulted over Edward and connected with Croc, sending both crashing to the ground. For a long moment, Edward sat there dazed, until he finally comprehended. Batman was here.

Edward felt a pair of hands grab under his arms and attempt to pull him to his feet. "Eddie! Come on! We got to go!" Edward blinked. Selina? Edward used her to get up to his feet and he wobbled unsteadily. Selina braced him by placing his right arm over his shoulder. A second figure dashed past them, also dressed in black, but with a blue emblem on his suit. Nightwing, Edward realized. The younger vigilante quickly joined the fray as Croc began to fight back against the Dark Knight. Edward could see electric sparks dancing off of Nightwing's fighting sticks as he alternated between striking Croc and jumping out of his reach. He felt Selina tug on his arm. "Come on Eddie!" she snapped. He didn't have time to answer before Selina began to drag him out of the alcove and back into the main sewer. Before they left, Edward leaned down to grab his cane.

They'd gone maybe twenty feet down the tunnel when the noise from the fight died down. Selina leaned Edward against the wall and turned around, unfurling her whip. With as much focus as he could muster, Edward unscrewed the top of his cane and pulled out the sword. If he was going to die here, he would take Croc down with him. Finally, Nightwing emerged, sheathing his sticks. He raised his arm at the pair. "We're good!" He went back into the alcove and seconds later, appeared again with Batman, each man dragging one of Croc's legs behind him. Croc was tied up with some wire, Edward guessed titanium the way it held strong against his struggling. The three paused and Nightwing dropped a leg to wipe his brow.

"Well," he quipped. "That was fun." He looked at Edward. "You don't look good Eddie. You should get that injury checked out. We know someone with a clinic in Park Row who can take a look at you-"

Edward didn't hear him. With unsteady feet, he walked towards Croc's prone figure, ignoring Selina's calling his name. His sword cane was tightly gripped in his hand and Croc was so close and vulnerable. He'd never get a chance like this again. One strike in his throat, two in his eyes, one in his heart, it would be so easy...

A black mass appeared in front of Edward and a hand held him back. "No Edward."

Edward looked up at the emotionless face of Batman. "Get out of my way," he growled. "He deserves this. You know he does. He has to pay for what he did to Jonathan!"

Batman shook his head. "He will. But not like this. I know what Crane's loss did to you Edward. But vengeance isn't worth throwing your life away."

Something inside Edward broke at the vigilante's words. "How dare you!" he shouted. "How dare you presume to tell me what Jonathan's loss did to me! You let it happen! You let Jonathan die!" Edward drew his left fist back and threw it square at his face. Batman caught his fist effortlessly. Edward let out a guttural cry and dropped his sword cane to hit his chest with his right hand. Batman caught his wrist and held both of Edward's hands back, all without saying a word or changing his expression. "You let him die!" Edward screamed. "You stood back and let it happen! You let Croc keep his body as a trophy! You ruined my life! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I-" Edward's vision became blurry and his chest began to heave. "You let him die," his voice broke. "Why didn't you save him? Why did you let Croc take him? Why..." He felt his knees buckle under him as he collapsed into uncontrollable sobbing. He felt Batman drop his hands and bring a hand onto his shoulder, bringing him against his chest.

"I'm sorry Edward," he heard Batman say. "I'm sorry. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't regret what happened that night."

Edward didn't want to believe him. He wanted to scream at him and call him a liar, but he knew that the other man had no reason to lie. He knew he was telling the truth. Edward grip tightened on the kevlar suit and he sobbed harder. He didn't know how long he stood there, sobbing against his formal arch enemy, but Batman never moved him. He stood still, only occasionally rubbing Edward's shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. Finally, when his tears and turned to pained gasps, he heard Selina's voice, speaking low. "Come on Eddie," she soothed. "Ellen and Doc Young are waiting for you. Let's go get you taken care of."

Edward loosened his grip on Batman and took a step back. Selina was there in an instant, helping to steady him. "There's a manhole about five feet from here," he heard Batman say. You'll end up right in the Diamond District. Nightwing, help them up."

Nightwing had watched the scene unfold with wide eyes, but as soon as he was given the command, he stepped forward and took Edward from Selina." Alright Ed. Up you go." At any other time, Edward would have objected to being manhandled like this, but he was past the point of caring. He shut his eyes and saw a figure with ice blue eyes before him.

 _I'm sorry darlin'._

* * *

Bruce waited until the others were out of sight before he glared down at Croc. "You should have just let me eat him," Croc growled. "Save us all a lot of trouble."

"He said that you were keeping Crane's body as a trophy," Bruce said. "Is that what you told him?"

Croc glared up at him. "What's it to you what I told 'im?"

Bruce clenched his right fist. "I was down in that sewer very night for over a week after the riot," he said. "I went over your lair multiple times. I never found any trace of Jonathan Crane's body there. I never found DNA evidence of him in your lair either. You lied to him. Why?"

Croc laughed. "Why? Fuck him, that's why."

After what had happened to Edward down here tonight, Bruce wasn't in the mood for this. He narrowed his eyes at Croc. "What really happened?"

Croc ground his teeth. "I really did start to eat him," he said. "I took a bite out of his face and leg, then he stabbed me with those needles. I let go of him and he swam off. I was gonna go after him until I heard you in my lair." He grimaced. "He really did taste awful too."

Bruce's eyes widened. Crane had managed to escape Croc? Could he-No. With the injuries he sustained and the blood loss, there was no way he could have made it off the island. But then again...

Dick reappeared, bringing Bruce out of his thoughts. "Selina called Cobblepot. He sent a car to pick them up and take them to Leslie."

Bruce nodded absently. "Good." He pressed the intercom in his cowl. "Oracle, we've apprehended Croc. Alert your father and GCPD. Dick and I will be up shortly."

 _"Great. Is everything OK? You sound off."_

"We'll talk when we're back in the Batmoblie. I'm engaging the auto drive for it now." Bruce pressed a few commands on his palm top. The Batmobile would be there in minutes. He turned to Dick. "Let's go."

* * *

Bruce and Dick dropped Croc off with the GCPD without incident, and now they were back in the Batmobile, speeding back towards Wayne Manor. Bruce had filled in Oracle and Alfred on what had happened that evening.

 _"Dear Lord,"_ Alfred murmured as Bruce finished telling them what had happened with Edward. _"I never thought I would say this, but I truly pity Edward Nigma."_

"Yeah," Dick said softly, leaning back against the passenger seat. "I mean, I knew he and Crane were a thing but..." he sighed. "I never took it seriously." He looked back over at Bruce. "He still shouldn't have blamed you for it. It wasn't your fault Bruce."

"That's not important now," Bruce answered. "There's something else though: Croc lied to Nigma about what happened to Crane. He didn't actually kill him."

 _"Wait, what?"_ Barbara asked. _"You just said Croc mauled him!"_

"He did, but Croc told me afterward that Crane managed to get away from him after he injured him. I searched the tunnels for weeks after what happened and I never found any trace of Crane down there. I think he managed to get out."

Dick sat straight up in his seat in shock. "Then that means-he could still be alive!" He faced Bruce. "We've got to tell Eddie!"

 _"Tell him what?"_ Barbara interjected. _"Dick, with those kinds of injuries, Crane probably died of blood loss or drowned before he made it off the island. What good would telling Nigma that do?"_

"Well, what if he didn't? How many times has Joker come back from the dead now? Maybe he got lucky, maybe he got a hold of that TITAN stuff!"

 _"Dick, it's been almost two years. If Crane's alive, where's he been? And why hasn't he made contact with Nigma?"_

Dick shrugged. "He was hurt pretty badly. Maybe he's still in a hospital somewhere. Maybe he lost his memories too. I know it's not likely, but if there's any chance he's still alive, Eddie deserves to know!"

 _"With all due respect Master Dick, at this time, I would strongly advise against it. After what that man's been through this evening, I feel that telling him this now would only deepen the emotional trauma, not help him. The kindest thing we can do for him is to let him come to terms with what happened and work through it. Giving him false hope would be cruel."_

Dick let out a huff and sank back against the chair. "Well Bruce?" he asked. "What do you think?"

 _Bruce slips into Edward's hospital room without a sound. He's spent the last week down in the sewer's underneath Arkham and found nothing. No blood. No body. Crane's body was likely washed out to sea, Bruce thinks. The chances of finding it are slim to none. All that he's found is a scrap of burlap from Crane's mask, torn off during his struggle with Croc. Crane's personal effects have already been taken by GCPD and the Arkham staff. This burlap is the only thing he can give to Edward. He looks over his former enemy, hooked up to machines, lying as still as he was the day he was brought here. Bruce put the burlap into the drawer of the desk by his bedside. Before he leaves, he looks over Edward. "I'm sorry Edward," he says. "For everything."_

"Bruce?"

Bruce shook his head. "If I find any evidence that Crane's alive, I'll tell Edward," he said. "But not now." His fists clenched around the steering wheel of the Batmobile. "I've done more than enough for now."

* * *

 _Sunday, February 4th, 2007_

 _5:00 am_

Penelope sat in the white Ottoman chair in her living room, her right hand still clutching her cell phone. She'd spent a few hours with Ellen before her grandmother had arrived home at about midnight. She shook her head. That had been a delightful conversation. When she'd arrived back at her apartment, she sat in her chair and waited for Selina to call. She hadn't moved since she'd come home. She hadn't slept either. She'd never been a religious person, but now she hoped to every higher power she could think of that Edward was alright. For Selina's sake, for Ellen's sake, for her own. Finally, her phone buzzed. She looked down and saw a single text message.

 _He's alive. He's hurt and he's not in good shape, but he's alive. I just brought him home from a clinic. I'll text later._

Penelope sank in her chair in relief. Edward was alive. The rest could be managed.


	30. Regarding Jonathan Crane: Closure

_Friday, February 9th_

 _9:00 AM_

Penelope arrived at her office to find it empty. She sighed, hung up her dark blue winter coat and walked over to her desk. Rationally, she knew she shouldn't expect to see Edward today. After Selina had texted her Sunday morning, she'd received only basic updates from her. He'd suffered a concussion and bruised ribs from his encounter with Jones but had received medical treatment. Apparently, after he'd been brought home, Edward had refused to see anyone. He hadn't called or answered his phone either. Selina and Cobblepot had been by a few times in the days since, but he'd refused to let them in. Penelope sat down at her desk and pulled out her schedule. She only was expecting two patients today, which gave her time to review her files from the latest case Gordon had asked her to consult on, not to mention reviewing her old notes from Arkham Asylum-

Penelope sighed and pushed her files away. Who was she kidding? She'd be lucky if she could concentrate on anything today. Her gaze wandered to her bookshelf, towards one old book in particular. She could just make out the text on the book's spine. Gotham University Psychology Department, 1993. She'd been thinking about that time in life a lot since Saturday night. A knock at her door brought her out of her thoughts. For a moment, she felt relief. Edward? "Come in!"

The door opened and Selina Kyle walked in, slamming it shut behind her. Penelope tried not to let her disappointment show. "Hello, Selina."

Selina nodded at her in acknowledgment before she sank in the seat Penelope had for her patients. "I saw Eddie today Doc."

Penelope leaned forward. "He let you in?"

Selina scoffed. "No, I picked the lock. I had to make sure he was still alive."

"How was he?"

Selina shot her a look and Penelope looked down at her desk. "Alright," she conceded. "That was a stupid question. How bad is he?"

Selina sighed. "He hasn't been eating much. I don't think he's been sleeping either. He was still wearing the pajamas I helped him in on Sunday. He still had that box on his coffee table with the articles about Spooky, but…"

Penelope looked up. "But?"

Selina shook her head. "He'd torn up a lot of them."

Penelope folded her hands under her chin. "Anger is part of the grieving process. Did he say anything to you?"

Selina raised an eyebrow "You mean other than 'get the Hell out' and 'leave me alone'?" Selina pinched the bridge of her nose and it occurred to Penelope that the other woman was trying not to let on just how devastated she was by Edward's state. "He was having a lot of mood swings. One moment, he'd almost start to talk about Crane, then he'd scream that he'd wished he'd never met him." Selina lowered her hand. "Ellen's been calling me non stop, but I don't want her to see him like that."

This had gone on long enough. If Edward was at the point where he couldn't look after his own basic needs, it was time to call Joan in. As Penelope reached for her phone, her eyes caught her old college book once again and she paused. "You mentioned that Edward has a box of news articles about Crane. Does he have any personal mementos?"

"He's got a scrap of Crane's old Scarecrow mask-"

"I don't mean Scarecrow," Penelope clarified. "Does he have anything about Jonathan Crane as a person?" Arkham would have taken anything Crane had in his cell, but surely Edward must have something to remember him by that wasn't connected with his crimes.

"No," Selina answered. "Most of Eddie's things either got taken by the cops or are in some storage space somewhere. Why?"

Penelope got up out of her chair and walked towards her bookshelf. "I'm going to go see him."

"No offense Doc, but he won't talk to me or Ozzie and he's known us for years. He won't even pick up when Nina and Deirdre call. He's not going to want to talk to a shrink, even if he does trust you."

"He doesn't have to talk to me," Penelope answered. She pulled the book off of the shelf. "But there's something I can give him that he needs to see."

 _He's in the sewers underneath Arkham. The smell almost knocks him back on his feet. He shouldn't be here, he thinks. Croc could come out at any moment, he needs to get out-then a man emerges, running from a doorway that leads back up to the Intensive Care Unit of the Asylum. A man dressed in burlap, carrying a pouch_ of _something. His heart leaps up. "Jonathan!" he calls out. "Jonathan!"_

 _Jonathan doesn't acknowledge him. Instead, he turns back towards the door where a man dressed in black runs in. "Stand back!" he yells. "Or this goes in the water supply!"_

 _He shouldn't be here. He needs to get out of here, just drop the bag and run, give yourself up to him for God's sake-"Jonathan!" he calls out again._

 _This time, Jonathan turns to face him. His mask is gone now, his face a red ruin. "You did this to me, Edward," he says in a broken voice. "You did this to me!" Croc leaps out of the water then_ grabs _onto his leg and_ drags _him under. Soon, there is nothing but silence and the water turns red with blood-_

 _"JONATHAN!"_

Edward bolted upwards, his chest heaving. He took a look at his surroundings. He was back in his apartment, on his sofa. He brought his hand up to his face. He must have fallen asleep after he all but chased Selina out of his apartment an hour ago. He hadn't gotten much sleep in the past week. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Jonathan and what Croc did to him. Edward shuddered. He'd already had few memories of the time he and Jonathan had spent together. Would he ever be able to think about him again without thinking about that night in the asylum? Edward removed his hand. It wasn't fair. Why couldn't he have just completely forgotten about him? Why did he have to remember that he loved Jonathan Crane? Wasn't the coma punishment enough? He slowly got up, wincing a bit at the dull pain in his ribs. He looked down at the scattered bits of paper on his coffee table. No more. He'd shred it all today. He looked at the scrap of burlap also on the table. He'd burn it. He would never think about Jonathan Crane again.

He got up to his feet and began to gather everything on the table together, then he heard knocking. Oh Christ, he'd just sent Selina away, now what? Oswald again? Nina and Deirdre? "Go away!" he shouted. There was a brief pause before the person knocked again. Edward considered this. Who did he know who would actually pause and knock again? Edward walked to his door and opened it. Penelope stood on the other side, immaculate as always, clutching her purse close to her. Her blue eyes widened when she saw him and to Edward, it was like a stab to the heart. For a long moment, he stood there. He wanted to tell her to leave, that she was the last person he wanted to see right now, but he couldn't. Those ice blue eyes, so much like his-

"Edward?" he heard her ask. "May I come in?"

Wordlessly, Edward stood to the side and held his arm out. Penelope walked into his apartment. She looked at him again and the concern was obvious. Edward felt a bit self-conscious. "I didn't realize that you made house calls, Dr. I would have freshened up a bit."

Penelope took stock of the man. From Selina's description, she'd been prepared for the worse, but this? He clearly hadn't showered and there was stubble on his face. She hadn't seen him like this since back at the asylum, before the coma. "I wanted to see you."

"And now you have," Edward said shortly. Penelope felt her temper rise, but she quickly pushed it down. Edward had been in a traumatic situation and was in physical and emotional pain, and he hated being pitied. He'd been pushing away his friends to avoid being seen as vulnerable. He'd do the same to her. She couldn't take anything he said too personally. "Selina visited you I take it," he continued. "Did she tell you what a wreck I've become?"

"She's concerned about you," Penelope said. "We all are Edward."

Edward walked back to his sofa and gingerly sat down. Penelope was watching his every move. He couldn't be angry at her, he thought. It's not like she chose to have blue eyes after all. "Did she tell you about Jonathan too?"

Her gaze softened just a bit. "Yes," she said. "She told me the night you went after Jones."

Edward weakly chuckled. "Well. So much for privacy. I suppose you're here to tell me how stupid I was for doing that?"

"No," Penelope answered. "That's not what you need to hear right now."

Edward raised an eyebrow. "What I 'need' to hear? Are you here as a psychiatrist? Is this an intervention?"

Penelope sighed. Time to put all her cards on the table. "I'd like to think I'm here as your friend Edward. I came because I was worried about you."

Edward almost didn't know what to say to that. After everything they'd already gone through, he supposed she was his friend now. "I'm not dying Penelope if that's what you're worried about," he said finally. "I'll get over it."

"Edward," she said. "You can't keep burying your emotions about this. That's what caused you to chase after Jones in the first place."

Edward felt his hands begin to twitch. "It doesn't matter," he said. "Jonathan's gone. Baring my soul to you or Selina, or Joan Leland won't bring him back. I'm better off just forgetting about him and moving on."

Until the next time something happens to remind you about Crane. Penelope grabbed one of the dining room chairs at the dinner table and pushed it so that it was in front of the coffee table. She sat down, now directly across from Edward, much like their sessions all those years ago. "While I agree that you should move on at your own pace, I think forgetting about him is a mistake. He was someone you-"

"It doesn't matter!" Edward shouted. "Even if he was still alive," Edward paused when his voice began to hitch. He wouldn't fall apart in front of her. "Even if he was still alive, I'm reformed. I'd still be reformed. Nothing was going to stop Jonathan from carrying on in his 'research'. We wouldn't have been able to stay together." Edward shut his eyes. "I don't even remember much about our time together," he admitted. "So really, why shouldn't I just forget about him?"

Penelope sighed. "Even if on an intellectual level you know that's true, that doesn't change your feelings about him. You can't rationalize away your grief." Edward looked down at his hands. Penelope bit her lip, wondering if coming here had been a mistake. Only one way to find out now. She reached down into her purse and pulled out her college psychology book. "Edward," she said. "There's something I wanted to show you."

"Please tell me it's about Hugo Strange. Or some other case." He didn't look up as Penelope placed a book on his coffee table. He looked down in disinterest. It was open to a group photo of students and faculty. Gotham University, Psychology Department group photo, 1993. In the front row, Edward vaguely recognized a younger Penelope, as serious then as she was now. "Why on Earth-"

Penelope reached over and pointed her finger at the faculty in the back row. "Look here. Do you recognize anyone?"

Edward looked over to where she pointed. In the back row, farthest to the left, stood a tall, gangly man, dressed in an ill-fitting tweed jacket. His expression was borderline contemptuous of the other people in the photograph. Edward's breath caught in his throat. "Jonathan," he whispered. He grabbed the book then and began flipping through the pages. There were more photographs of Jonathan, a profile written about him, even quotes from him regarding the nature of fear. He stopped at one photo of him standing in front of a group of students in a lecture hall. The caption below read Professor Jonathan Crane and students.

Edward looked back up at Penelope. "You knew him? Before Arkham?"

She nodded. "Yes. I was in his fear and phobias class my sophomore year. I also worked as a teaching assistant for him for a few weeks, before…he was dismissed."

Before he'd become Scarecrow full time. Before Edward had ever met him. He looked back down at the photograph of Jonathan, still wearing that tweed coat…

 _…"Jonathan? What on Earth is this?" Edward pulls out a tweed coat from the closet. It's a brown color, one that Edward wouldn't be caught dead in, but that he supposes looks alright on Jonathan._

 _Jonathan looks up at him from where he's still lying in bed. "What're you doing going through my closet?"_

 _"Planning a wardrobe change for you. If you're going to be seen in public with me, you're going to be dressed accordingly."_

 _"Begging your pardon Edward, but I don't think I'll be taking fashion advice from a man who used to dress in a green catsuit."_

 _"That catsuit fit my aesthetic, thank you very much! It's not like I wore it for formal occasions! And besides," he adds flirtatiously, "Let's not pretend you didn't enjoy seeing me dressed in skin-tight spandex."_

 _Jonathan does not dignify this with a response,_ instead _picking up a pillow and throwing it at Edward. Edward dodges it easily and laughs…_

…"Edward?" He'd been looking at the picture with a distant look on his face. Almost as if he wasn't there. Was he remembering something? Penelope leaned forward a bit. "Edward?" she asked again.

Edward started a bit. "I remember," he whispered. "I remember that coat." He chuckled a bit, and Penelope was relieved to hear how genuine it was. "I always hated that thing. He'd wear it whenever we went out to socialize and he looked ridiculous in it. It didn't fit him right. I tried I don't know how many times to get him to get it tailored or to get him to wear something that looked better, but he never would. More out of spite I think. He was the most stubborn person I've ever known."

"That makes sense," Penelope added. "Even when he was a professor, he never cared much for his appearance. We realized once that he wore the same pair of shoes every day at the lecture. I asked him if he had any other shoes and he looked confused for a moment. Then he asked me 'Why? Do you?'"

Edward actually laughed a bit this time, taking care to avoid aggravating his ribs. "Every dime he ever made from any scheme he concocted went to his chemicals or to books. I stopped by his hideout once, before we were together, and his living room floor was covered in books. I went to his kitchen to get a glass of water, and out of curiosity, opened his fridge."

"And there was nothing in there?" Penelope guessed.

Edward shook his head. "Oh no, there was something in there. A pumpkin. A pumpkin and a bottle of soy sauce. I told him that was no way to live, and he said 'I have my books. That's all I need.'" Edward laughed again and then his smile fell. "I really thought, after I was cleared and when I began my career as a private investigator, that he'd come. That any day, I'd walk into my office and he'd be there, sitting at my desk, asking me just what in the Hell I thought I was doing." Edward tried to laugh again. "The first stage of grief is denial, right?"

"For some people yes," Penelope said. Edward was close to either a breakthrough or a breakdown. She needed to carefully guide him through it. "I think though that between focusing on your own recovery, getting established in your new career and this business with Hugo Strange, that you've never really been able to grieve."

Edward took a shaky breath and ran his hand through his hair. "I was alright. I thought I was alright. I mean yes, it hurt to think about Jonathan, but I'd accepted it. And then that news about Croc came and I realized that there was so much about what happened that I didn't know, that I needed to know." Edward's vision became blurry and he realized that he was crying. "It was my fault. What happened to Jonathan. It was my fault, Penelope."

"What are you talking about Edward?"

He'd said too much. He hadn't even told Selina this, but the words came before he could stop himself. "Croc told me he killed him to get back at me for something I did to him during some scheme." Edward's voice hitched as he grabbed the side of his face. "I don't even remember what it was! I don't remember what kind of scheme it was, what I did to Croc, any of it! And Jonathan died because of it!" He covered his face with his hands. "I love him, Penelope. I love him so much. And I might as well have killed him."

Penelope said nothing as she processed what Edward had told her. God…It was obvious what kind of toll hearing this had taken on Edward. And to think, she'd believed wholeheartedly once that he wasn't capable of caring about other people. Edward's frame shook with the force of his sobs and she knew she had to do something, say something. She reached her hand over to gently touch his shoulder. He looked up at her then, his hands dropping from his face.

"No you didn't Edward," she said. He leaned forward slightly and she moved her hand from his shoulder to cup his face. "You're only responsible for your own actions Edward. Whatever you did to Jones, he was the one who chose to take it out on Jonathan. He's responsible for what happened to Jonathan, not you. You know that."

Edward gasped a bit and grasped onto her hand. For a long time, the two of them sat there, Edward in tears and Penelope watching him. This was necessary. Painful, but necessary. Finally, Edward had calmed down enough that Penelope felt safe speaking to him again. "Edward?"

Edward opened his eyes. He thought he'd be embarrassed, being this vulnerable around anyone and he probably would be later, but for now, he felt at peace. "Hmm?"

Penelope wet her lip. "I know you're not going to like this, but I think you should tell Joan about this. She does have experience in grief counseling."

Edward sighed. "I don't know how much more I can talk about this Penelope."

"I know it's painful, but you've got to work through it, Edward. She can help you. We all can. You're not alone Edward."

He sighed and nodded. No, he wasn't, was he? Slowly, he let go of her hand and she withdrew it. He leaned back against the couch. God, he was tired. He was hungry too. He looked back down at the book Penelope had brought and slowly pushed it back to her. "I should let you have this back-"

Penelope stopped the book with her hands. "No," she said. "I want you to have it. Selina told me you didn't have anything about Jonathan that wasn't related to his crimes. He was a very flawed individual, but he was more than the Scarecrow, especially to you. You deserve to remember that."

Edward had to shut his eyes to prevent another outbreak of tears. When he'd recovered, he took the book back. "Thank you," he said. "For everything." She smiled a bit in response and Edward felt a small one come to his own face. For the first time since last Friday, he saw her again. "Were you really his teaching assistant?" he asked suddenly. It certainly explained quite a bit about her, come to think of it. "What was that like?"

Penelope shook her head. "It…was quite an experience." Her face grew serious again. "I don't how much Jonathan talked about that part of his life with you, or how much you remember, but I can talk to you about it. If you want me to."

"I'd like that," Edward said. "Not now, but I'd like to hear about it. I haven't talked to anyone about him in so long…" he trailed off. He suddenly became aware that he was dressed in pajamas and that he hadn't showered for almost a week. "I really look like a mess, don't I?"

"Yes," Penelope answered bluntly. "You need to shower. And shave."

"Fine," Edward grunted, pulling himself off the couch. "What a nag. Worse than Nina and Deirdre."

Penelope rolled her eyes, but she was relieved. This was the Edward she'd become accustomed to. "You should call Ellen at some point too. She's been worried sick about you."

Edward froze and turned back to face her. "Ellen-you know about Ellen?"

"I met her last Saturday night. She was the one who alerted us about your absence. She's probably the reason you're still alive Edward."

Edward gulped. He'd almost left his daughter an orphan. What had he been thinking? He sighed and shook his head. "That wasn't how I wanted you to meet her."

Penelope was surprised by this. "But you did want me to meet her?"

Edward shrugged. "At some point, yes. How was she?"

"Worried mostly. She cursed at one of Cobblepot's restaurant managers and almost ran off to find you herself."

Edward shook his head. "My little hellion. I suppose I owe Oswald an apology for that." He looked down at his feet. "I owe Ellen one too. I was supposed to spend time with her that Saturday."

"Damn right you were, Old Man!"

Edward and Penelope both turned to see Ellen standing in the open doorway. The girl shut the door behind her and stomped past Penelope to where her father stood in the living room.

"Ellen, what are you doing here?" Edward asked. "You do realize that it's a school day?"

"I ditched Old Man. No one was telling me anything, so I decided to check on you myself." She stopped when she was in front of Edward and glared up at him, her lower lip jutting out. "Dumb Old Man!" She then opened her arms and lightly hugged her father's right arm, taking care not to touch his ribs. "Are you OK?"

Edward leaned down and rubbed the top of her head with his left hand. "No," he said. "I will be though."

Ellen nodded, then pulled away, her nose crinkled. "You stink."

Edward rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll go take a shower." He left the two women in his living room and walked towards his bathroom. When he was gone, Penelope got out of her chair and walked over to Ellen.

"You really shouldn't be missing school like this."

Ellen cocked her head at her. "You're not really gonna report me to the truant officer, are you?"

Penelope sighed. "Just this once, no. But don't make this a habit."

Ellen rolled her eyes. "Whatever." She then rubbed her elbow. "Is the Old Man really going to be OK?"

Penelope nodded. "He needs to speak with a counselor about this, but yes. I think he will be. Your father's many things Ellen, including a survivor." He'd come this far from where he'd been. He'd make it. Edward walked back out into the living room, dressed in fresh casual clothes. Penelope reached down to grab her purse. "I should go. I have patients to see."

Edward nodded. "Next Friday then?"

Penelope gave him a small smile. "If you think you're up to it, yes." She walked towards the open door and paused to look back. She lingered for a moment, before finally giving the father and daughter a small wave. "Goodbye Edward. Call me if you need anything."

"I will. I promise."

She nodded, then shut the door behind her. Maybe she should stay a little longer-no. She had work to do. And Edward needed the time with his daughter. She shouldn't intrude on that.

Now that Penelope was gone, Edward turned his full attention to his daughter. "Well now," he said. "What am I going to do with you?"

Ellen dropped her backpack on the floor and sat ion the couch, looking for the remote. "Prime Minister's Questions! Gotham Public Access has a marathon today!"

Edward sat down next to her slowly. "Wonderful. Just what is your fascination with the British parliamentary system? You don't even follow local politics."

"It's funny! Bunch of dumb old guys yelling at each other and going 'nay' or 'yay'. Beats watching the City Council." Ellen found the remote, under a photograph of Jonathan that Edward had pulled out. Ellen looked at it. "You really cared about him a lot, huh?"

Edward took the photograph from her and looked at it. At some point, he'd need to pack the box away, but this time, he'd leave some pictures of Jonathan out. "Yes I did," he answered softly. "I loved him."

Ellen leaned her head against his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

Edward reached around her to give her a side hug. "It's alright."

"I wish I could've met him."

Jonathan didn't care for children, but Edward liked to think he could have come to care for Ellen. "I wish you could have too. I'll tell you more about him, Ellen. But not right now. Right now, let's watch your silly Questions."

Edward spent the rest of the afternoon watching TV with Ellen, watching her as she laughed at the proceedings, or joined in with her own quips. He said nothing, happy to be in her presence. He wasn't alright. Seeing the older pictures of Jonathan and being able to speak of him helped, but he knew that thinking about him would always be painful. But Penelope was right, he realized.

Jonathan might be gone, but Edward wasn't alone anymore.

He wasn't alright, but he would be.


End file.
